Ripples in the Water
by Engraved.in.Ink
Summary: It only takes one drop of water to create a ripple effect. In the blink of an eye one boy's life will turn upside down and leave him in the shadows of a cruel, unforgiving world as he struggles to make his own path and face his demons. One act, one ripple, could take his life...or save it.
1. Prologue, Pt One

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Pokemon, its characters or its regions. However this story idea is mine, as are the main character Zayn and his family, the Shadow Syndicate gang, and a few minor characters that I may make up. This story is also rated T for language and violence. It is not your average Pokemon adventure; this is a story about one boy's fight for truth and survival in an unforgiving world where only the strong prevail. I hope you enjoy!

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_Prologue, Part One: New Beginnings. . ._

Lumiose Station was filled with people and Pokemon alike running around here and there, yelling at each other over the boom of the automated voices shouting directions through the intercoms and the roar of the trains as doors _whooshed _open and passengers filed on and off the platforms, luggage in their hands and a mix of emotion on their faces.

In all his ten years, Zayn Harker had never seen so many people gathered in one place before; the mesh of different smells and sounds both frightened and confused him. As they stood in line for their own train tickets—behind an obnoxiously loud, plump woman garbed in a floral-printed sun dress and a wide-brimmed straw hat that accentuated the deep red flush in her cheeks as she bickered with the man at the ticket booth over the number of carry-on bags she could depart with—he pressed closer to his mother.

A tall thin woman, Rhodette Harker had a caring soul and a kind face, offering aid to anyone in need of it—an unshakable habit as a volunteer at their hometown's local hot springs, she would jest. They had shared a life together in the quiet community of Lavaridge Town in the Hoenn region with his father, Daric Harker, back when he had been a happy man. But that was a lifetime ago, it seemed. When his mother smiled now, there was a sadness in her eyes that reflected on those days long past.

Daric's sudden departure two years ago still haunted his mother to this day. Zayn, himself, only missed the man Daric had once been in his earlier memories—a caring father and devoted salesman who knew how to laugh and love.

He would have never dared to lay a finger on his family in anger back then, but shortly before his disappearance he had changed. He had become violent, his temper short, and there were many times where he would come home late into the night smelling of alcohol and cheap perfume.

He had hit Zayn's mother on occasion, first when Zayn was away but then even while he was around. It finally took his father to directing his fists of anger towards their son to get Rhodette to fight back.

After threatening to leave him, the beatings stopped. After the beatings disappeared, so shortly did his father.

He had never seen his mother as heartbroken as she had been the day his father walked out, without so much as a word to them. He knew that a part of her had died that day, though admittedly Zayn had felt a pang of guilt as relief to see that man leave filled his young heart. His mother never spoke ill of Daric after that; in fact, she never spoke about him at all.

"Next in line to booth seven!" The ticket clerk boomed over the grumbles and laughter of the crowd, snapping Zayn out of his reverie as his mother placed a hand on his shoulder.

"That's us, dear," Rhodette whispered with a smile as she bent down to pick up her suitcase. Her voice was always little more than a whisper, even when she was upset. In fact, Zayn could not recall a time when she had ever raised her voice to him.

Hesitantly, Zayn wrapped nervous fingers around the strap of his bag and slung it over a shoulder.

It had been over a year since they had left Lavaridge Town, hopping from place to distant place. It was an extended vacation, his mother would say when he asked why they traveled so much, but they never stayed in one place for too long; once, he was able to count the number of hotels they had stayed in on his fingers and his toes, _twice._ After a few weeks or so they would pick up and leave, moving on to the next town as if searching for something. Or, he dared to think with a shudder, running from something.

As he followed his mother's long strides to the ticket booth at the far end, weaving between throngs of people in an attempt to keep up, a soft whimpering caught his ear. He glanced around, bright blue eyes scanning the crowd for the source of the sound, but saw nothing that would explain what he heard.

Then again—a low, frightened yowl, barely audible over the hustle-and-bustle of the station.

Curiosity pulling on him like a puppet's string, Zayn placed his backpack next to his mother and crept slowly back through the crowd, careful not to let himself wander too far from sight of her.

The sound led him to a row of benches next to the loading dock to the trains, not too far from the ticket line. To be sure, Zayn spared a quick glance over his shoulder—Rhodette was still at the booth, digging through her purse as she laughed over something the man next to her had said. Reassured, Zayn sank to his knees and peered beneath the bench closest to him, taking care not to dirty his jeans in a puddle of sticky brown gunk on the floor.

Cowering in the shadows amidst forgotten snack bags and neglected soda bottles, a pair of wide yellow eyes gazed warily back at him. He recognized them instantly.

"Ooh, a puppy!"

A sense of childlike excitement overcame him, and Zayn soon found himself crawling under the crowded seats toward the pair of eyes, sticky goo be damned. The low whimper ebbed into a sharp growl, but it was more out of fear than a warning, so Zayn pressed on.

A quick yap and a few short barks later, Zayn emerged from the depths of the benches. Bright red scratches lined his arms as he stood slowly to his feet, cradling a tiny ball of fur in the crook of his elbow. It was then that he noticed his mother standing over him, his blue backpack in hand and a glint in her eyes.

"Zayn," she stated, blinking away what he could only assume to be tears, "what have I told you about wandering off? You can't—!" She cut herself short, pinching the bridge of her nose as she collected her composure. Zayn hugged the squirming black ball close to his body, suddenly feeling very ashamed.

"I can't lose you, sweetie," Rhodette finished, the words catching in her throat.

"Sorry, mom," Zayn apologized, averting his gaze to the bundle in his arms. It had stopped squirming in favor of licking the inside of his elbow, the rough pink tongue tickling his arm.

Rhodette followed her son's gaze, realizing for the first time what her boy was carrying.

"Where did you find that?" Her voice was calm, but held a cautious tone. There was no mistaking the coal black fur; those alert yellow eyes; the metal ridges on its back, head and legs. Though Houndour were uncommon even in the Kalos region, they were still known far and wide for their ferocity and temperament.

Zayn could not hide the pride in his voice as he carefully held up the little pup, a grin spreading from ear to ear. It blinked at Rhodette, baring its little fangs to give a sharp yap. "He was calling for help! I rescued him!"

"It's so young," she remarked, reaching out to stroke its head. "He might be the runt of his litter."

The pup growled and nipped at her fingers.

Rhodette glanced from her son to the young Houndour, and back again. There was one other person she knew of that was drawn to the dark, fiery types, and he had left her. She could not bear the thought of losing her only son, too.

Before Rhodette could protest, Zayn turned the young Houndour around and held him to his face. "I think I'll name you Ghost!" He exclaimed, his eyes full of such excitement that she could only bite her tongue. The pup licked his nose, and that was the end of it. There was nothing she could do to persuade her son otherwise.

For as long as he had been alive, Zayn only remembered having just one Pokemon in the family—a feisty Crawdaunt, whom his father had taken with him when he left.

He never knew of his mother to have any Pokemon, though sometimes he would find her staring at an old photograph she kept in her purse. Sometimes she would smile at the memories that picture held, but mostly she would just sit there and stare, tears pooling beneath her eyes, and he dared not to think of the memories that possessed her thoughts then.

"NOW BOARDING FOR COUMARINE CITY! ALL PASSENGERS PLEASE MAKE YOUR WAY TO PLATFORM FIVE AND BE READY TO PRESENT YOUR TICKETS!"

Zayn looked up at his mother, hugging the Houndour to his chest. He had always wanted a Pokemon to call his own, and this chance find was an opportunity from Fate itself—an opportunity he dared not neglect to take.

"Please, mom?" He begged as Rhodette picked up her suitcase. "He _needs_ me! And I'll take real good care of him, promise!"

Rhodette sighed and shook her head. "Zayn," she started, but stopped herself.

Standing there staring at her son, watching as the pup reached up to lick his chin and he chuckling and patting the steel-plated skull on its tiny head, she could not help but be reminded of a little girl from decades ago when she first received her very own Pokemon. So long ago, and yet those feelings were still just as strong today. . .

"Well," she finally spoke up, a smile creeping slowly across her lips as her son's eyes lit up in anticipation, "you're almost of age now, sweetie. I suppose Ghost can travel along with us."

"Yes!"

Handing her son his backpack, Rhodette chuckled and steered them towards platform five. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, after all.


	2. Prologue, Pt Two

_Prologue, Part Two: Often Start. . .  
_

"When we get to Coumarine," Zayn started as he stroked Ghost's back, "can we get some pizza?" The puppy gnawed on his fingers as they filed in line.

Rhodette nodded as she fished the train tickets out of her purse. It had been several hours since they had breakfast; getting some pizza for a late lunch sounded like a great idea.

"Maybe we can get some ice cream afterwards, too." As she handed the conductor their tickets, the train doors _whooshed_ open and a crowd of people began to make their exits.

"So, does having Ghost mean I'm a Pokemon trainer now?"

Rhodette glanced down at her son and ruffled his unruly brown hair. "I think you'll need to practice with him first before you start dreaming big."

"Have a great day, ma'am." The conductor handed her the stamped tickets and tipped his hat as they waited for the passengers to debark.

"Come on, sweetie, let's—"

Zayn looked up when his mother didn't finish her sentence. . . and froze.

Two tall, imposing men in black suits and dark sunglasses were blocking their entrance to the train.

"Mrs. Harker?" The man on the left asked, while the man next to him pressed on his earpiece and mumbled, "We found them."

Zayn looked to his mother, fear clutching at his chest, only to see that the woman who never seemed to be afraid of anything was immobilized by the same fear that gripped him. "Mom?"

At first it was only a whisper, so low that he had to strain to hear her above the shouts of the people behind them. Her lips quivered as she backed away from the men, her suitcase falling from her grasp with a _thud_ as her arms went limp beside her.

"Reapers," she murmured, and suddenly time seemed to slow to a crawl.

He watched as the thugs in the suits lunged for Rhodette, shoving people aside as they stepped off the train. Lips moved and arms rose in anger as the startled crowd protested and shoved back, driving a thin barricade between Zayn and his mother.

Ghost squirmed in his arms and yapped wildly, as if he sensed the danger that was slowly unfolding around them and aimed to do something about it.

Zayn stumbled backward as one of the thugs—a bald man with an old scar across his chin—reached for his arm with a burly hand, tripping over his mother's suitcase and landing hard on his back. The wind rushed out of him, and in that instant time sped back up.

His mother was weaving in and out between people, eyes frantically searching for an exit as the other man in the suit chased after her. He was a slender man, with slicked-back hair the color of sand and eyes as blue as the ocean. His cheek boasted fresh bloody scratches the size of fingernails and his sunglasses were crumpled somewhere beneath the swarm of confused people, but there was a look to his eyes that did not speak well of his mother.

Zayn looked on, helpless, as the man grabbed an item off his belt and tossed it into the air. A blinding red flash popped out of the Pokeball, transforming moments later into a tall white ape with black claws and eyes as angry as its master's. Zayn's eyes widened in recognition as people screamed and dove out of the Pokemon's way.

"Get her, Vigoroth!"

The ape howled, beat its chest and broke into an awkward gallop, its knuckles pounding into the cement like hammers as it shouldered unsuspecting tourists aside.

"Zayn! Run!"

Rhodette's shrill cry over the commotion drove him to his feet. Swinging his backpack at the bald man's face with all the might a frightened ten-year-old could muster, he smacked him square in the nose, dislodging his sunglasses to reveal cold gray eyes, and without missing a beat Zayn bolted through the crowd.

"Ghost!" He cried out as he ran, looking back to see the little Houndour bounding after him, a tiny barrier between his new friend and the man that wanted to catch him.

Leaping over turnstiles and sliding around a corner, Zayn finally made his way to Lumiose Station's entrance. Stopping just long enough to catch his breath, he chanced a glance back.

A sea of people stood between him and the loading docks. Shouts rose up from the other side of the station as the Vigoroth tore past the ticket booths, knocking a lady in a white dress dotted with pink and yellow polka dots to the ground. Her pink Furfrou yapped at the insult as an elderly gentleman struggled to help her to her feet, but his mother was nowhere in sight.

He felt a tug on his pants leg and looked down to see Ghost gazing up at him, ears alert and bright yellow eyes full of concern.

"I'm OK," he reassured the pup, willing his heart to slow its rapid pace. "I'm OK."

After a few moments, as his heartbeat calmed and the world had stopped spinning, Zayn scanned the crowd for his mother. Surely she got away; she had to have gotten away!

"I don't see her," he muttered. Ghost whimpered at his feet.

Suddenly, a heavy hand grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. Zayn called out in shock as Ghost scampered to the left to avoid a swift kick from a well-placed boot.

"I found the boy!" The bald man with the gray eyes—a Reaper, his mother had called them—hollered into the earpiece. "Get the woman!"

Zayn twisted this way and that, trying to wrench loose, but the man held fast to his t-shirt with an iron grip. "You won't get away that easy, punk!" His voice was thick and flat, and there was a red blotch on his brow where Zayn's backpack had hit him.

Zayn caught sight of two men in polo shirts and khakis handing out flyers by the station entrance and waved to them. "He-help!"

The bigger man looked over, nudged his partner with an elbow and they both started making their way towards Zayn. He smiled, relieved, as the bald man turned around. A smirk played on his thin lips as he tightened his grip. "Not today, kid."

"What's going on over here?" One of the men, a lanky guy with piercing green eyes and a pointed goatee, shouted. The shorter, huskier man slowed his pace, pulling a phone out of his pocket and dialing into the keypad. "Yes, Lumiose police?" Zayn heard him mumble into the handset, and his hopes soared to the ceiling.

Out of the corner of his eye Zayn saw the bald Reaper open his suit jacket and reach around to his belt. Quick as a whip, he tossed the Pokeball into the air. After the red light subsided, a tall Pokemon in red-and-black armor stood between Zayn and the would-be rescuers. Silver sharp-edged pincers lined its ribcage, and its arms and legs were chiseled into fine sword points.

"Bisharp, don't let them pass!"

The Bisharp grunted and slapped the flat of its bladed hands on the golden axe blade protruding from its helmet. Narrowing its eyes, it cast a glare in the do-gooders direction that froze them in their tracks.

"Meet me at the train," the Reaper ordered into his earpiece as he snatched Zayn by the nape of his neck and steered him through the crowd. Sirens could be heard on the city streets, barely a whistle above the noise in the station, but they were growing closer by the second. "It's time to go!"

"Let. Me. GO!" Zayn kicked and squirmed, trying to break free, but the man's grip was unyielding.

"Cut it out before I knock you out!" His fingers dug into Zayn's shoulder as he shoved a man with spiked green hair and more piercings in his face than flesh out of their way. "Bisharp, let's move!"

The Bisharp swung around them and cleared a path through the crowd, and for the first time after the men in suits came after them Zayn caught a glimpse of his mother.

Rhodette was standing next to the benches where Zayn had found Ghost, her arms pinned behind her back by the sandy-haired Reaper as the Vigoroth fought back anyone from the surrounding crowd who tried to help. Her eyes were moist with tears, but when she saw her son moving towards her, accompanied by the bald man and his Bisharp, Zayn could have sworn that her heart missed a beat. Any sliver of hope he had felt earlier vanished in that moment.

"Why are you doing this?" He heard his mother whisper as Zayn and his escorts drew near. The sandy-haired man smirked, his gaze sweeping over Zayn like a vulture examining its prey. The blood from the scratches on his cheek made him look even more sinister, and brought out a certain gleam in his eyes. "A debt is owed, and a debt must be paid. You know our motto, Roe." He leaned closer and whispered something in Rhodette's ear, his lips still drawn in that terrible smirk and his cold blue eyes never leaving Zayn.

Rhodette's eyes widened in horror, and she started to writhe and scream. "You will not touch my son! You will _not_ touch him!"

"You forfeit your life and the lives of those you love when you leave the Shadow Syndicate!"

Zayn could feel his own heart skip a beat as fear and anger fought for control over him. What could these men _want_ from them? What did they ever do?!

Once they were in front of his mother and the sandy-haired man, the bald Reaper forced Zayn to his knees. His Bisharp and the Vigoroth formed a wall between the two men, keeping the people at bay as the sirens grew louder.

"We need to make this quick, Garren," the bald man quipped as he reached behind him, his hand grabbing at something tucked in the back of his trousers. "The cops are almost here."

The sandy-haired man, Garren, nodded and reached behind his back. "You knew this was coming, Roe," he stated as he withdrew a flash of silver from a holster on his belt. "And now the lovely people of Lumiose will know you for a traitor, as well."

"A gun!" Someone in the crowd shouted. "He's got a gun!"

Suddenly, the plight of Zayn and his mother was no longer a concern for the denizens in the train station as they nearly trampled over each other in their fright. Zayn had never seen a herd of people move so fast in his life. He did not have to look to know that the bald man held the same silver pistol in his hands, too.

This was it, he thought as tears welled in his eyes. He looked to his mother for strength, but saw only tears and a helpless frustration reflected in her face. This was the end.

Zayn lowered his head as the weight of the gun barrel pressed against him, a soft _click_ as the hammer was cocked vibrating on the back of his skull. He was going to die here, he was going to die and he didn't even know why.

"Sorry, kid," the bald Reaper whispered, though there was no sympathy in his tone. "It's nothing personal."


	3. Prologue, Pt Three

**Shout-Outs:** A huge shout-out to StallsalotHB for being the first to review this piece! Sorry (sort of) for the cliff-hanger, but thank you for your kind words and, as you yourself have stated, for being my #1 fan!

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_Prologue, Part Three: With A Tragic End_

Tears streamed down Zayn's face, the noise of the crowd screaming and the thundering of a hundred pairs of feet stomping the ground in a desperate attempt to escape drowned out by the sirens that wailed right outside the entrance to Lumiose Station.

The Vigoroth hooted as it paced next to its trainer, banging on its chest in excitement. The bald man's Bisharp continued to watch the receding crowd warily, eyes darting between its master and the train as if it knew of their predicament and was just as anxious to leave.

This was it, Zayn thought with a sigh. He was going to die right here, right now.

What could he do to stop it? He was only ten! Even a crowd of people could not stop these two men, these Reapers. And he only just got his first Pokemon today. . .

Wait.

Zayn's eyes snapped open. "Ghost," he whispered.

"What was that?" The bald Reaper hissed, grabbing a mass of hair and yanking his head back. "Speak up, boy!"

Zayn fought back a cry of pain as he glanced towards his mother. Garren was standing behind her, silver pistol aimed at the back of her head, but he was not paying any attention to her. They were going to shoot him first, he realized. Shoot him and make his mother watch, and then they were going to shoot her and leave their bodies for the cops to find.

A rush of anger boiled in his veins, dissipating the fear that had immobilized him only moments ago at the thought of these thugs murdering the only person he had left in this world and getting away with it.

"Ghost!" He hollered, and in the back of his mind he could only pray that the young Houndour was still around. "Bite attack!"

Before the bald man could respond, a black blur darted out from under the benches with a snarl and leaped onto the Reaper, tiny fangs sinking deep into the arm that held Zayn steady.

The man cursed and screamed, loosening his hold on the boy as he stumbled backward, flailing his arm wildly. His Bisharp circled its master as it watched with greedy eyes, searching for the perfect moment to strike down the pup. "Get this fucking mutt off me!"

"Rolan, what the fuck's going on?" Garren spat, incredulous, as his partner swung his arm in an attempt to knock off the four-legged attacker. Ghost clamped his jaw tighter, eliciting yet another excruciating howl from the bald man as the Bisharp glared at the Houndour, helpless to stop him.

While they were distracted, Zayn scurried towards the row of benches on all fours. If only he could get closer to his mother!

A large clawed foot stomped the ground in front of him, barely missing Zayn's outstretched hand as Garren's Vigoroth whooped at him. The ape beat its chest and snarled down at the boy, determined to hinder his escape.

Hurried footsteps echoed from the other end of the now-empty station. "Hey, stop right there! Don't move!"

Zayn looked back to see several armed officers closing in, accompanied by a team of rambunctious blue-skinned dogs with yellow manes and tufts of yellow fur on their haunches. The police were here!

"Zayn!"

He snapped his head around at his mother's voice. She had managed to break free from Garren during the distraction and was making her way towards him. "You fucking bitch!" He heard Garren curse, pressing a hand to his nose. Dark globs of blood seeped between his fingers and splattered on the white collared shirt beneath his suit jacket. "Stop her, Vigoroth! Use Fury Swipes!"

Rhodette reached for Zayn and grabbed his outstretched hand, dodging the Vigoroth's arm as it swung a frenzied claw at her head. "Come on, sweetie," she ushered as she yanked her son to his feet and pulled him towards the officers. "Let's go!"

"Ghost!" Zayn called as he struggled to keep up with his mother's hurried stride. He looked over to see his tiny companion release Rolan's bloodied arm with a growl and scamper in their direction, ducking as the angered Bisharp lashed out at his backside.

"Manectric, go!" He heard the officers call out as they hopped the turnstiles. "Stop those men!"

They were almost there! It seemed like they were running across an obstacle course, jumping and tripping over scattered luggage, but as long as they put some distance between themselves and those Reapers, Zayn didn't care if they were crossing all of the Kalos region. As long as their little family was safe.

"Bisharp, Night Slash!"

A sudden yowl of pain from behind stopped Zayn in his tracks. His hand slipped out of his mother's grasp as he turned around to see Ghost lying on the ground a few feet behind him, unmoving. Rolan's Bisharp stood over the Houndour, the blade on its left arm shrouded in black smoke.

The bald man held up his Pokeball and returned the Bisharp, smirking at Zayn as he edged closer.

Zayn's heart sank in his chest. No. No, no, no. . .

"Ghost!"

"Zayn, stop!"

Without thinking, Zayn ran back to where his companion was laying, tears stinging at his eyes as he knelt beside the pup. It could not end like this for the Houndour, not after the bravery he showed against those men!

Rhodette knelt next to her son, her eyes never leaving the two Reapers as they grew nearer. The officers were so close now; Zayn could practically feel the electricity emanating from their Manectrics as they bounded past the abandoned ticket booths.

"Hurry, sweetie," Rhodette whispered as she helped Zayn carefully scoop Ghost up in his arms. "We have to go!"

An ear-splitting boom rocked the train station, the shock from the sudden noise jarring Zayn to his core. He gripped Ghost's body closer to his chest as he stood up. "Don't worry, Ghost," he cooed, turning toward his mother as the ringing in his ear subsided. "I'll save you!"

He looked up to see Rhodette standing over him, her mouth twisted in silent shock, eyes gazing at the loading dock behind him where the Reapers were. She had both hands pressed against her stomach, and Zayn thought he saw thin rivulets of blood trickling down her arms. "Mom?"

"Vigoroth, return!"

Zayn turned to see Garren recall his Pokemon, the barrel of his pistol smoking. That smirk still played on his lips as he stumbled backward to the platform. "Consider your debt paid, Roe Harker!" He glanced at Zayn and gave the boy a cold wink, saluting him with his pistol. "See ya 'round, kid."

"Garren, let's go!" Rolan called as he hopped onto the train.

Zayn turned back around and watched, stunned, as his whole world came crashing down to her knees. She reached up with a bloodied hand and brushed her fingers over his cheek, a pained smile gracing her red lips. "My baby," she coughed.

The police officers drew closer, shouting orders to the team of Manectrics as they raced past Zayn, barking after the Reapers as they made their exit on the train, but Zayn's vision was too blurred to make them out clearly.

Ghost lifted his head and licked Rhodette's hand, whimpering softly. She smiled at the Houndour and touched his nose with a trembling finger. "Stay strong, Zayn. Ghost wh—will protect you."

"Mom, no!" He exclaimed, reaching out for her hand as she slumped over. "No, I need you! You can't leave!"

"It's OK, sweetie. My debt is—my debt is paid."

By the time the officers reached them, Rhodette's hand had slipped out of Zayn's grasp and her eyes had already closed in an eternal slumber.

Ghost struggled to his feet as a young officer by the name of Jenny took off her cap and knelt beside Zayn, placing a sympathetic arm around the boy's shoulders as he cried. While they roped off the crime scene and collected the Harker's luggage, searching for what little evidence there was amidst the curious onlookers and media cameras that trickled in, the young Houndour lifted his head and howled in mourning.

"Do you know who those men were?" Officer Jenny asked Zayn as her Manectric chased off an inquisitive reporter.

His shoulders had stopped shaking some time ago, shortly after the coroners carried his mother away in a body bag, but the ache in his chest was still suffocating and the tears would not stop falling. "My mom, she . . . she called them Reapers."

Officer Jenny cursed under her breath. "The Shadow Syndicate, those bastards!" She patted Zayn's arm as she waved off a cameraman. "I'm so sorry, Zayn. With their public display of. . . we should have known."

He reached out to stroke Ghost, wiping his moist cheeks with the back of his hand. So, there were more of them out there. More of these pitiless, unforgiving thugs roaming the streets, taking the lives of mothers and fathers and leaving their orphaned children behind. _Bastards!_

He balled his hands into fists as anger boiled in his blood, and after awhile Zayn looked up at Jenny with the cold, hard eyes of a boy who had nothing left to lose. "If I ever find them, officer, I'll kill them. I'll kill them all."

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**Author's Note:** And the back story ends here! I honestly didn't even expect it to carry on this long, but am very pleased with how it turned out! At this point I'm open to accepting any OCs, as from here Zayn will embark on his journey as a Pokemon trainer. He will meet friends, he will make enemies and he will help strangers as he and Ghost travel the Kalos region battling for badges and searching for clues to the sinister Shadow Syndicate and their connection to his mother's death. If you want to create a character in the Syndicate, feel free! Just be sure to mention it in their bio. For all character submissions, please adhere to this form:

_**Name:**_

_**Age:**_

**_Pokemon Team:_** No legendaries, for obvious reasons! If you are creating a new trainer from Lumiose City, pick which starter. Only two spots available for beginner trainers (Zayn will get whichever Kalos starter is not chosen), though I may be open to creating three additional spots as in the games Professor Sycamore gives away the three original Kanto starters!

**_Back Story:_**

**_Additional Notes:_**

Remember, submissions are on a first come/first serve basis! I look forward to your entries!


	4. Interlude

**Author's Note:** Thank you to everyone thus far who has submitted their OC's! Your characters will certainly provide an interesting mix to the story! I implore you all to be patient with your submissions, as updates to this story might be irregular at times and some of your characters will not be able to make an appearance until much later in the game. Also, Froakie and Chespin have been taken, leaving Fennekin for Zayn. . . Oh? What's this? It looks like I've decided to open up an additional THREE more Lumiose starter spots! _SIX_ starters?! That's crazy! That means that Charmander, Bulbasaur and Fennekin (I've decided to give Squirtle to Zayn, to complement Houndour's fire-type) are up for grabs! Claim one now before they're gone!

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_A Reaper's Interlude_

The spiraling skyscrapers of Unova's Castelia City rose up from the land below him like iron-tipped fingers as Garren soared overhead toward the setting sun, navigating his Staraptor with practiced ease.

His blood was still pumping from the excitement that had unfolded in Lumiose City's train station just two days prior—the weight of the pistol in his hand, its metal smooth against his skin; the screams of the crowd as they fled in fear; the look on that boy's face as he took the life of his mother with a single bullet. The ripe scent of blood still clung to his nostrils, though in truth he would not be able to smell anything for at least a few more days, when the swelling subsided.

Garren laughed aloud, raising his arms up high as the wind whipped through his unbuttoned blue blazer and tousled his hair. His first real mission as a Reaper had ended in success, and the cost for such a victory was no more than a broken nose! He felt as if anything were possible!

Staraptor, feeding off of the energy that its master was resonating, stretched its wings and climbed higher into the air.

"Garren!" Rolan's voiced boomed into his earpiece. "Quit showing off and get down already!"

"Aw, come on Rolan!" Garren protested, laughing as he steered Staraptor past Castelia's sprawling metropolis and out towards Nimbasa City. "Didn't you feel just so damn _good_ after your first Reaper mission?"

Static echoed in his ear as he waited for the bald man's reply. "Rolan?"

"Mr. Shadow wants to see you."

Garren's high spirits suddenly down spiraled as he cursed under his breath. "Don't you fuck with me, Rolan." Usually Spektra, the boss's right-hand operative, would pass along any commentary or missions to the appropriate administrator, and the orders would trickle down from there. But for Mr. Shadow to ask for him directly. . .

"I wouldn't make him wait any longer if I were you." The static resumed, but Rolan's voice never came back on.

"Shit!"

Garren grabbed a fistful of his Staraptor's feathers and yanked him into a hard right. The pepper-gray hawk cawed in pain as it took a sharp dive. In the distance, the famous Rondez-View Ferris Wheel of Nimbasa peeked above the city's skyline. He was almost there.

{{{{-]-]-]-]-][-][-[-[-[-[-}}}}

It was dark out by the time Garren had set foot inside the Lucky Ball Casino's doors. The shrill laughter of first-time gamblers and well-seasoned high rollers alike as they tossed back another shot of liquid encouragement and rolled their life's savings across the tables bombarded him as soon as he entered, accompanied by a fast-paced mix of musical ambiance blaring from all corners of the room.

Shouldering his way past a group of intoxicated gentlemen rooting on their buddy as he slammed down the handle to one of the slot machines, Garren made his way to the far back corner.

As he passed by the bar, a thick hand grabbed his arm and yanked him aside. "You're late."

Garren whirled around to see Rolan downing the last of his beer, his gray eyes shaded behind a fresh pair of sunglasses.

"I'm here now, aren't I?" Garren hissed.

The bigger man ran a hand over the smooth top of his scalp and cast Garren a sidelong glance, taking in his appearance with a raised brow. "And you're sloppy." He adjusted the silky black tie that hung from his neck as he stood up.

Garren hurriedly buttoned up his jacket as he followed Rolan up the stairs in the far back, his hands shaking as they were frisked by a man even huskier than his escort and then allowed entry through a hidden door in the back wall.

Rolan stopped just on the inside of the door and pointed down the dimly lit hallway. "Straight down this hall, fourth door to the left," he instructed, patting Garren's shoulder. "Knock three times and wait for his permission to enter. He's expecting you."

Nodding, Garren continued down the length of the hall alone, stepping cautiously as he wondered with a nervous mind what was to be expected once he stood before the head of their entire organization. If rumors could be trusted, then he was not likely to find smiles and congratulations on the faces of those that awaited his arrival.

His fist trembled as he gave three sharp raps on the plain wooden door. Combing a hand through his disheveled hair, Garren mentally ticked off the seconds before he heard the dreaded word mumbled from within: "Enter!"

Stepping inside, Garren bowed his head in courtesy and held his hands behind his back, determined to keep his gaze locked on the points of his scuffed black boots. "You summoned me, sir?"

"It's Garren, isn't it?" The voice was smooth as silk, yet the tone somehow reminded Garren of a Persian—while beautiful to look at, it possessed a certain edge about it that made you think twice before rubbing it the wrong way. "Garren Reed?"

"Y-yes, sir." He silently berated himself for stuttering.

"You were a drug pusher for us not that long ago, prior to your promotion. I believe congratulations are in order. Not many Shades make it up the corporate ladder, so to speak. You must have great potential in you."

Garren felt the tiniest flicker of a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. "Thank you, sir."

He heard a voice whisper something in the dark and, despite his better judgment, curiosity bade him steal a quick glance up.

The room he was in was smaller than he had pictured, and sparsely furnished. He took notice of a potted rubber tree plant in the corner to his left, and two large oil paintings—one of rolling blue mountains beneath a setting sun, and the other of a bustling cityscape in the dead of night—hanging on the walls to either side. There were two plush red chairs a few feet in front of him, and beyond that an ornate wooden desk. A large half-open Pokeball was carved into the desk face, as if it was frozen in mid-throw, and the letters "Lucky Ball" and "Casino" were etched in beautiful cursive, framing a semicircle around it. There were several monitors adorning the back wall, televising the goings-on of the casino floor, and a tall standing lamp in the far right corner that emitted a soft glow.

Sitting behind the desk, thick arms folded over the surface, sat a broad-shouldered man with dark skin and darker eyes. His jet black hair was parted methodically to the right, and though the lamplight only illuminated a part of his face, Garren could make out the faint outlining of a scar that curved from the corner of his lip up across his left temple and disappeared into his hairline.

An imposing figure, Garren could see just exactly how this man lived up to his name.

When he realized that he must have been staring for too long, Garren averted his eyes back to the floor.

There was a deep, guttural chuckle as Mr. Shadow linked his fingers together and rested his hands beneath the cleft in his chin. "Don't be afraid, boy," he spoke, though Garren took it more for a command than a suggestion. "You can look up."

Hesitantly, Garren raised his head until his eyes met squarely with Mr. Shadow's. It was then that he noticed the woman beside him.

Her platinum blonde hair was pulled up into a tight bun, and though she was gowned in a figure-fitting lime green dress with silver and gold bangles clanking on her arms, there was no mistaking those mesmerizing violet eyes or those lush red lips.

"Spektra, here," Mr. Shadow continued, gesturing to the woman leaning beside him, "has informed me that you just recently took on your first Reaper mission."

Garren nodded, adjusting his stance and willing his nerves to calm. This was not the reception he had been expecting, but he dared not drop his guard. "That's right, sir. The Harker woman."

Spektra leaned down and whispered into Mr. Shadow's ear. "Ah yes, I remember her. A pity to lose such promising talent, but we all know what our commitment to the Syndicate entails."

_A debt owed is a debt paid._ Garren recalled, with no small sense of pride, those same words spoken that day at the train station. It had been exhilarating, his first role as executioner. While pushing the trademark drug of the Syndicate had kept him busy on the streets, he looked forward to many more Reapings ahead of him. Killing people gave him a bigger thrill than Black Dust ever did.

Mr. Shadow leaned forward, his eyes burning like heated coals in the lamplight. "It has been brought to my attention, Mr. Reed, that you have failed to honor that code."

Garren felt the ground give way beneath his feet. "Th-that's impossible!" He had assassinated the Harker woman in plain view. It had been a public display of her treason and of the strength of the Shadow Syndicate. It had been executed by the _book_!

Unless. . .

His eyes narrowed as realization dawned on him. "The boy."

"The boy," Mr. Shadow echoed, leaning back in his chair. "You did not fully collect the debt, Mr. Reed. And you were almost caught in the process."

Garren shook his head, defiant. "But Rolan, he was—"

"As our newest Reaper, Mr. Payne was there to evaluate your performance. Nothing more."

His hands were trembling again. Garren inhaled deeply, telling himself to stay calm. He could still fix this. The boy would be no problem for him. He was a _Reaper_ now, not some lowly grunt!

"The kid is no threat, sir. Give me one more week and I swear I'll—"

"You had your chance, Reaper." Spektra stepped forward, her heels clicking softly on the tiled floor. Garren turned his gaze to her, an unfamiliar heat flushing his cheeks. "Your orders were clear, and you botched it."

Mr. Shadow clicked his tongue against his teeth. "Spektra, play nice." He shot the Reaper a sympathetic grin, though Garren found little comfort in it. "It was only his first time."

Spektra smirked, her nose wrinkling up at him in contempt as she place a well-manicured hand on Mr. Shadow's shoulder. "Even so. Luckily, our latest project is almost ready for a trial run."

Garren raised a brow, puzzled. "Project?"

Mr. Shadow _tsk_ed again, waving a finger at the Reaper. "The boy is no longer your concern." Then, pressing a button on the side of his desk: "Machoke, please escort Mr. Reed out. I believe Mr. Payne is waiting for him with a new assignment."

No sooner had he finished his sentence than a tall Pokemon with skin the color of ash and muscles as big around as a tree trunk opened the door behind Garren. "Mah!" It choked, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him out into the hall.

"Wait, Mr. Shadow!" He exclaimed as he struggled to free himself from the Pokemon's grasp. "I can fix this! I can—"

Mr. Shadow waved, his lips still twisted in a grin as the office door slammed shut. Once they were alone, he leaned back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Spektra, where do we keep finding these. . . boys!"

"There, there." Spektra patted his shoulder as she took a seat on the corner of his desk. "Between that Team Rocket group and society's idiotic desire to become a Pokemon trainer filling their heads, they aren't exactly lining up at our doors."

Blowing a gust of air out of his nose in a small sigh, Mr. Shadow reached up and grabbed her slender hand. "Let's not dwell on it, then." Raising her hand to his face, he gingerly brushed his lips against the smooth skin. "Now, my dear, I believe we still have a debt to collect on. How do you propose we handle this young Harker boy?"

Spektra laughed, a clipped throaty sound, and traced his scar with a purple fingernail. "Well," she started, cupping his chin in her hand, "we can't send any more Reapers after him, that's certain. If we give it time, he may forget, but I wouldn't bet on that. No, our best option would be to prep our project and make sure its ready."

Mr. Shadow's brow lifted in a sort of childish curiosity. "Our project?"

"It's a good a time as any," Spektra stated, a gleam alighting her violet eyes. "After all, why send a man to do a child's job?"


	5. Chapter One

**Author's Note:** I would like to thank everyone for their submissions and their reviews! Your support for and your belief in this adventure help drive it forward. This is beginning to look very promising, and I hope you all continue to enjoy the journey! On a side note, Bulbasaur has been claimed! Charmander and Fennekin are still in need of trainers, so let's give them some love!

**Update:** I recently realized that the officers of Kalos don't use Growlithes, as they aren't native to that region. So in the previous chapter where they were mentioned (Prologue Pt. 3) I replaced the Growlithes with Manectrics. It's possible that I've missed other things of the sort, so if you ever notice anything that seems out of place with the Pokemon world feel free to let me know!

**Shout-Outs:** Again, thank you all for your kind reviews! It pleases me to see so many of you enjoying my work! To show this appreciation, I will devote these 'shout-out' sections to try and individually thank each and every one of you.

To _Reaper of Books_: A child's job indeed, mwahaha!  
To _Flame Sergeant Fisher_: Thank you so much for your compliments! As the story progresses, I hope the chapters will continue to grow longer, and I eagerly await your OC submission!  
To _StallsalotHB_: Thank you for returning again and again. I appreciate your enthusiasm for this story!  
To _IfTimeWasStill_: Your kind words move me, and inspire me to continually better my story. And I look forward to introducing your OC!  
To _LadyGlitchy_: I love your enthusiasm, and I hope future updates continue to excite and enthrall you! I also eagerly await your OC's introduction into the story!

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_Chapter One: Back Alley Blues  
_

"Ghost, use Ember!"

Zayn looked on, eyes narrowed in concentration as a stream of fire blasted from his Houndour's mouth, shooting across the ground like a rocket. The sparse crowd standing along the four brick walls that enclosed the alleyway in a dead end cheered and placed their bets as the opposing blue-and-white furred otter held up a pale yellow seashell, deflecting the attack and sending jets of flame ricocheting off the walls. The crowd hollered in surprise and ducked down, then continued to root on the competitors and call out more wagers.

"Nice job, Oshawott!" The boy on the other side shouted, his voice cracking in juvenile excitement. He was a new trainer on vacation from Unova, no less than a year Zayn's junior, with auburn hair that would have brushed past his shoulders if it was not pulled into a loose ponytail and eyes as green as emeralds. His tailored charcoal-gray vest, polished loafers and matching slacks showcased his family's wealth, and the boy's arrogance.

He turned his gaze to Zayn and sneered. "Stupid, don't you know that fire-type moves are weak against water?"

Zayn clenched his jaw shut to keep himself from snapping back. This was a Pokemon battle—his ninety-ninth in fact, and if all went well then it would be his forty-ninth victory. An impressive record for an unlicensed trainer; he doubted that this spoiled kid had won even half that many matches. Still, Zayn would not let the youngster goad him into his verbal warfare. He would let Ghost do all the talking.

"Water Gun!"

"Counter it with Ember!"

Ghost shot another blast of fire at the otter just as a stream of water came gushing in his direction. The two attacks clashed halfway down the battlefield, the balance of power tipping on both sides until they erupted into a steaming haze, shrouding the alleyway and blocking the evening sun from view. The onlookers coughed and grumbled amongst themselves, squinting through the smoky veil as the cloud slowly thinned out.

Ghost was panting heavily, his body tiring from the brawl. _Hang in there, buddy,_ Zayn thought as he waved a trail of lingering smoke from his eyes. The Oshawott was not fairing any better as it wobbled from side to side, the yellow scalchop hanging loosely in its grasp.

"You just don't learn, do you?" The kid smirked, his cocky tone drawing Zayn's attention back to him. "Oshawott, hit him with Tail Whip!"

The little otter shook off its fatigue and scurried first left, then right, zigzagging awkwardly on its stubby blue flippers as it charged at Ghost. The Houndour stood in place, his ears erect and his eyes following the Oshawott's every move as it drew nearer, awaiting his next command with the practiced patience of a Mightyena studying its prey.

_Not yet,_ Zayn silently urged. The Oshawott pattered closer, picking up speed as it gained confidence. Ghost twitched an ear nervously and glanced back at his trainer, his courage wavering. _Just a little more!_

Once the Oshawott was close enough it leaped into the air and spun around, its rudder-like tail aimed for Ghost's head. "Ghost!" Zayn called, and he could not keep the grin from spreading across his lips as he commanded the Houndour to execute the trick he had taught him less than a month ago. "Catch!"

Without hesitation, Ghost jumped up on his hind legs and opened his jowls, wrapping jagged fangs around the otter's tail and clamping down hard as he jerked it out of the air. The crowd fell silent as the Oshawott crashed to the ground and wailed in pain, flailing its arms as it tried to squirm free, but Ghost held it firmly at bay.

The taste of victory ripe on his tongue, Zayn turned his attention to his opponent. He could not deny that the look on the boy's face as his Pokemon flopped helplessly like a fish out of water was satisfying, and he could not resist taking the opportunity to gloat. "Aw, don't look so surprised!" He stated, giving his bewildered opponent a triumphant wink. "Here, we'll give him back to you!"

Ghost spun in a full circle, emitting a sharp growl as he released the otter. The Oshawott flew up into the air, screeching in terror as gravity brought it plummeting back to the ground.

"Oshawott, return!" The boy withdrew a Pokeball from his belt and recalled his Pokemon as it fell, and Zayn closed his eyes in silent thanks. He had wanted to scare the snooty little brat, after all, not kill his Pokemon; though, maybe he had taken the showboating a little too far with that last act.

"Hey," Zayn called out to the kid, feeling a small pang of guilt as the boy stared at the Pokeball in his hand, disbelief misting over his eyes. "No hard feelings?"

The kid glanced up at the sound of Zayn's voice and clipped the Pokeball back to his belt, that arrogant smirk returning to his lips. "Next time we face, Harker, I'll have an even stronger Pokemon. Your dog will beg for mercy!" Laughing at his own cleverness, he shoved his hands deep into his pockets and sauntered towards the exit.

The crowd began to disperse shortly after, giving Zayn their congratulations as they passed. Running a hand through his hair, Zayn walked to the middle of the makeshift arena and crouched down next to Ghost.

"Well," he said, scratching the Houndour behind an ear. Ghost pressed his wet nose into Zayn's outstretched hand, licking his fingers affectionately. "We did it."

They had just sealed their forty-ninth victory.

It had been four years since the Lumiose Station incident, four years since his mother had. . . Well, it had just been a long four years. Having nowhere to go and no one to go to, Officer Jenny had taken him in. She was a good woman with a big heart and an open mind, but she would never be his mother, and on his bad days Zayn would see fit to remind her of that.

A year after the train station, once the nightmares had stopped completely, he had gotten into his very first Pokemon battle with some wild-eyed kid from school. It had been brash and reckless, a fight to defend his own honor against the kid's bullying, and the match was lost. Ever since that day, Zayn and Ghost had trained in the back alleys of Lumiose City—much to Officer Jenny's chagrin—brawling in unofficial matches against residents and tourists alike, growing together in both strength and trust.

"It was my fault, you know," he admitted to the pup once he felt that they were alone. Ghost raised his ears, as if to show that he was listening. "Mom wanted to take a cruise ship that day, but I begged her to take the train. She wanted to leave for Hoenn and I wanted to go to the beach, I had never been to the beach before, and she—she said OK. . ."

Tears stung at his eyes as he ran a hand down the length of Ghost's spine, tracing the faint scar that slashed across his back and curled up along the side of his neck. "This was my fault, too. I almost left you behind."

Ghost nipped at Zayn's hand and growled, a low rumble that held no threat in its tone.

"Yes it is, don't try and say that it's not. I sent you up against a Bisharp when you barely even knew how to Tackle."

The Houndour snorted, displeased with his trainer's statement. Zayn rolled his eyes and rubbed his Pokemon's head. "You know it's true, buddy."

He had almost lost Ghost that day, too. Those six hours he had spent pacing the Pokemon Center, his mind still reeling from the day's events as he nervously awaited Nurse Joy and her final diagnosis while Officer Jenny tried in vain to calm him down, had made him realize that his Houndour was all that was left for him. He wanted Ghost to be strong, he _needed_ for him to be strong! The weak would always fall at the hands of the strong; Zayn did not want to be weak ever again. He could not bear the thought of losing someone else. . .

Footsteps echoed on the cobblestones behind him, snapping him back to reality. Zayn quickly wiped his eyes and turned around, silencing Ghost when a cautionary grumble rose up in his throat.

A tall, wiry boy no older than seventeen stood at the entrance to the alley. His lithe frame was complemented by a tailored yellow-and-black blazer and dark vintage jeans, and his malachite green eyes shone bright against his olive-toned skin. But the stranger was not who Ghost was glaring at.

Standing on all fours next to the boy, its shaggy mane even with his chest, was a large Pokemon that Zayn had never seen before. It had coarse black fur covering most of its body and blue skin the color of ice where fur was sparse. Its eyes were yellow slits amidst red scleras and its thin black tail was capped with a yellow four-pointed star. On the backs of its forelegs were three golden half-bands, and attached to its wrists were shackles in the shape of magnets. It had a majestic air about it, and regarded the Houndour with a fervent snarl.

"That was some impressive battling back there," the boy grinned, drawing Zayn's attention back to him as he brushed a lock of black hair out of his eyes. His gaze lingered on Zayn for an unnerving while before finally resting on Ghost. "Your Houndour is remarkably tame for a dark-type. Did you name him?"

Zayn nodded, combing a hand through his unkempt brown curls. "His name's Ghost."

"Ghost," the boy repeated, and there was a gleam in his eye that sent a chill crawling up Zayn's spine. "What an unusual name for a Houndour." He then turned his gaze back to Zayn and smirked, resting a hand on the Pokemon next to him. "This is Slant, my Luxray." The Pokemon purred and arched its back at the boy's touch, its narrowed eyes never leaving Ghost. "And I'm Klaüs. Klaüs Sen."

"What an unusual name," Zayn started, placing a hand on Ghost's back as another growl rattled in his chest. "For a guy."

Klaüs chuckled, an overly exuberant sound that seemed more forced than natural. "I had an unusual upbringing."

"Zayn!"

Ghost's ears perked up at the familiar voice, his tensed body relaxing as his stubby tail began to wag in excitement. Zayn's gaze searched past Klaüs and his Luxray, and an unexpected sense of relief washed over him.

Officer Jenny stood a few paces behind the stranger, dressed fully in the teal uniform of the Kalos Police Department. Her green hair was neatly tucked beneath the officer's cap, and the glint in her amber eyes held a subtle flare that Zayn recognized as disappointment.

Aware that they were no longer alone, Klaüs nodded his head in a short bow. "I look forward to us meeting again, Harker, and seeing what you and Ghost are capable of." His Luxray, Slant, continued to regard Ghost with the same cold, hard glare that its owner held for Zayn, and there was a predatory eagerness in its eyes that almost drove Zayn to wrap his arms around the Houndour and shield him from the dangers of the world for the rest of their lives.

Klaüs grinned, shooting Zayn a wink as he and Slant turned to leave. "See ya 'round, kid."

His heart froze in his chest as the image of a sandy-haired man in a train station popped into his head. The train he had boarded was starting to pull out of the station, but the man stood in the open doorway, his black suit tattered and bloodied. His eyes were orbs of bright blue fire burning in empty sockets, and his cheeks were pale and sunken in. The metallic smell of blood was heavy in Zayn's nose as the skeletal man grinned and pointed his pistol at him, red smoke drifting out of the barrel as he tightened a bony finger around the trigger. "See ya 'round, kid!"

_Bang!_

Zayn closed his eyes, willing the frightful apparition to dissipate as quickly as it had formed, but when he opened them a second later Klaüs and his Luxray were gone.

Ghost barked and ran over to Officer Jenny, who bent down and stroked his chin. "Who's a good boy, Ghost? Who's a good boy!" Her smile was warm and comforting, but when her eyes met Zayn's it dissolved into a displeased frown. "You, not so much."

Zayn shoved his hands into his pants pockets, averting his gaze to the ground with a sigh. It was always the same thing whenever she would find him battling in the alleyways. Her lecture would come, regardless of what excuse he would use to justify his actions. He had learned early on that it was best to just stay quiet and let her say her piece.

"You know that street battles in the city are illegal, Zayn, _especially_ if you aren't a licensed trainer!" Officer Jenny started, crossing her arms as she paced back and forth, her booted heels clicking softly on the cobblestones. "As an officer it's my duty to protect this city and her people, but I can't do that if you continually put yourself and others at risk with these battles!"

Zayn opened his mouth to say something, but thought better about it and instead remained silent. Officer Jenny did not seem to notice.

"I mean, what would've happened if someone had gotten hurt? Or if you had been caught by anyone else!" Jenny stopped pacing and turned to Zayn, the spark in her eyes simmering to a dull glow. Her shoulders sagged, as if they were weighed down by a heavy burden, and there were stress lines on her face where the skin should have been smooth. "Zayn," She started, placing a hand on his arm. "I know it hasn't been easy for you these past few years. Hell, it hasn't been easy on me either."

Zayn looked up, his brow creasing with intrigue; this wasn't a part of her usual lecture.

"I know you do this as a way to cope, believe me, I get it." Jenny sighed as she removed her cap and scratched her head, placing a gloved hand on her hip. "But it's not safe on these streets, even with Ghost by your side." The Houndour cocked his head to one side as he sat next to them, listening just as intently to Officer Jenny's speech.

"Zayn, you have to promise me—"

"ALL OFFICERS, WE HAVE A 459 IN PROGRESS ON ESTIVAL AVENUE! ALL OFFICERS, PLEASE RESPOND!"

Jenny cursed as she reached up and lifted the black mic off her shoulder. "Copy that, HQ. Officer Jenny nearby and en route." Looking back at Zayn, she pointed a finger at him. "This doesn't mean you're off the hook, mister!"

Zayn tried to suppress a grin as she ruffled his hair. "Of course not, officer!"

"We _are_ continuing this discussion later," she affirmed, replacing the hat back on her head and embracing Zayn in a tight hug. "Now go on home, both of you! I left some money on the counter for pizza in case you get hungry."

"Be careful out there, Jenny. It's dangerous." Zayn watched her walk to the street until she disappeared from view, then he turned his gaze to Ghost. The Houndour stared up at him, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he panted. "You hungry?"

Taking the sharp yap as a yes, Zayn led them out of the alley, hands in his pockets and a low tune whistling from his lips as they walked along the city streets. It was slowly growing darker as dusk approached, and Lumiose's nightlife was beginning to stir, but as they walked home Zayn could not shake the feeling that they were being watched.


	6. Chapter Two

**Author's Note:** The starters have all been taken! Thank you _aggies2015_ for choosing Charmander, and thank you everyone for your submissions! But SYOC isn't closed yet! There are still plenty of spots available for the Shadow Syndicate and other minor characters! Let's make this an adventure we can all enjoy together!

**Shout-Outs:** Thank you _FinalPower_, _Flame Sergeant Fisher_ and _Shadow Serenity 57_ for your awesome reviews! I look forward to including your OCs into the story!

* * *

_Chapter Two: A New Day Dawns_

It was already late into the night by the time Officer Jenny returned home to her apartment. Bolting the door behind her and tossing her keys onto the kitchen counter, she stretched her arms above her head and sighed. Three robberies, a stabbing on the south side, and several domestic disputes across the city had kept her busy for most of the day.

_What is this city coming to?_

She noticed the empty cardboard box on the dining table and a small smile touched her lips. At least the boys had eaten.

"Manec!"

She glanced down at the blue and yellow Pokemon next to her. "You hungry?"

"Tric! Tric!"

Shaking her head, Jenny walked over to the refrigerator and opened the door. The yellow light cast a soft glow over the kitchen as she fished around, her hands pushing plastic containers left and right until finally she pulled out a small brown bag with a blue thunderbolt emblazoned on the front. Manectric circled her excitedly as she reached overhead and withdrew a ceramic bowl from the cupboard.

"Here. Pokefood, à la carte." She poured the dry bits into the bowl and set it on the floor, watching as the Pokemon attacked the food like a starving dog. "You better clean that up," she warned as she prepared a simple sandwich for herself. When her meal was ready, though, she devoured it just as hungrily.

Once they were satiated, Jenny kicked off her shoes and made her way to her bedroom. It had been an exhausting day, and a hot bath sounded like the perfect medicine for her aching muscles. "We've the next two days off, Manny," Jenny stated as they pattered to the room. "I plan on starting our mini vacation off right—by sleeping in." The Manectric glanced up at her, his bolt-shaped tail wagging as if in agreement.

She stopped midway down the hall, just long enough to peek into Zayn's room.

It was a bit small for a bedroom, but it was the best she could do on a moment's notice to turn the unused office space into something Zayn could call his own. The twin-sized bed frame was a little worse for wear, but it was made of solid pine and the man at the used furniture store across town had given her a generous discount in order to get rid of it. The oak dresser, regrettably, was purchased at full price.

It had all been so new to her, so. . . unexpected.

Tears stung at Jenny's eyes as she recalled that day at the train station, when those Reapers had taken the life of Rhodette Harker and left her ten-year-old son to bury the body. She had seen the Syndicate's handiwork many times, though mostly she just dealt with the lowly Shades peddling Black Dust on the streets or harassing tourists for some quick cash. Rarely did a Reaper ever cause a commotion in her city; they were public assassins who generally targeted political officials and other gangs. She had never heard of them killing a civilian in cold blood before. Or worse—leaving a survivor.

Two tiny ears rose up from the foot of the bed, barely visible in the darkness. Jenny smiled as Manny crept over to say a quick hello to Ghost.

She remembered rushing the Houndour to the Pokemon Center with little Zayn right beside her. It had been six nerve-wracking hours, but save for a winding scar across his back the little runt had made a full recovery. _He's no runt now,_ Jenny thought as Manny returned to her side.

By Houndour standards, Ghost was the biggest that she had ever seen. He had grown almost overnight, it seemed, and was about as tall as Manny's shoulder. "Runts will do that," Nurse Joy had told her when she brought him out. Zayn's eyes had lit up as the pup licked his nose, and for a moment Jenny was sure that he had forgotten all about the train station and the Shadow Syndicate. "Either they die from malnutrition while fighting for their mother's milk, or they develop faster and stronger than their litter mates. Your boy's lucky to have one."

With the way he watched over Zayn and how fiercely he fought for him, Jenny was more than convinced. Ghost was definitely a fighter.

She tiptoed over to the bed, scratching Ghost behind the ear as she studied Zayn. His curly brown hair hung in his eyes as his brow furrowed at something unpleasant in his dream.

The first year had been the hardest.

At first, Jenny remembered with a sigh, every dream he had was a nightmare, and every night she would rush in and quiet his screams. As time carried on the wounds gradually healed and Zayn opened up to her a bit more, but her worries never took rest.

She had never given it any thought before, having children. When people would ask she would only laugh and tell them that Manny was childish enough for her, or that she dealt with enough unruly kids on the streets to even think about having one of her own.

_Funny how things turn out,_ she thought as she brushed aside a lock of hair from Zayn's eyes. They may have their ups and downs, and they might disagree on things most of the time, but as she watched him sleep, the lines in his forehead smoothing over and a small smile flickering on his lips, Jenny was certain that this was how things were meant to be. How _she_ was meant to be.

Leaning down, she gave him a light kiss on the cheek and pulled his covers up a little higher. "Goodnight, little soldier," she whispered as she turned to leave.

A glint of something silver on the nightstand caught her eye.

Jenny glanced down at the picture frame, studying the image behind the glass cover as she had done so many times before. It was a old photo they had found in Rhodette's purse, though the couple in the picture were far too young to have had any children at the time—barely out of middle school, if Jenny ventured to guess. Still, she recognized the tall girl standing under the tree from her mug shot in the Lumiose morgue.

Zayn looked so much like her, dimples and all, though he had the same bright blue eyes and unruly mop of hair as the boy laughing next to Rhodette. Standing beside their respective owners were a red-and-tan Corphish and a tiny purple-and-beige Purrloin with sharp green eyes, and behind them all in the distance was a multistory building that Jenny could only assume to be a Trainer School—though not one from this region, if memory served her well.

His parents had been trainers, though she had no memory of seeing the purple cat at the station when her squad arrived. Zayn had told her about his father's abusive habits a few months after she had legally adopted him, but he made no mention of any Pokemon other than his father's Crawdaunt.

"So sad, to lose a Pokemon. . ." Jenny muttered, brushing a finger down the frame's smooth edge. "And then to suffer your husband, only to end up losing your son." Sometimes, when things would get a little hard for her to handle, she would come into Zayn's room alone and talk to the girl in the picture. If nothing else, Jenny would find faith in herself as a foster parent whenever she whispered to Rhodette.

These days, though, she mostly sought advice on how to let him go.

Giving Zayn one last, long look, Jenny motioned to her Manectric and they made their exit. "As much as I hate to admit it," she whispered as she led Manny to their room at the end of the hall, "I know that boy will end up leaving." She glanced down at Manny and sighed. "I can't keep him from his dreams."

All children with the glory of becoming a trainer set in their hearts must leave home eventually. She knew this. She had practiced for it, preparing herself both mentally and emotionally for the day when Zayn would follow in his parents' footsteps and seek out his own fortunes. But even with all of that preparation, Jenny knew that it would not make the blow any less painful.

Manny gazed back down the hall, a tiny whimper rising in his throat, before following Jenny to the bathroom.

{{{{-]-]-]-]-][-][-[-[-[-[-}}}}

The tantalizing scent of pancakes and bacon stirred Zayn from a deep sleep. Stifling a yawn with the back of his hand, he sat up in bed and glanced at the clock on his nightstand.

_12:53._

He had slept in?

Tossing the covers off of him, he rose to his feet and stretched, another yawn tugging at his mouth. Jenny never let him sleep in before.

Gathering a few items from his dresser drawers, Zayn scratched his head as he stumbled across the hall to change.

When he finally emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a pair of loose-fitting jeans and a light blue hooded sweatshirt with a slanted red-and-white Pokeball embroidered on the left breast, he slowly made his way to the kitchen.

"The dead has arisen!" Officer Jenny exclaimed as she finished setting the table. "Does the zombie prefer orange juice or milk this morning?"

"Orange juice," Zayn said, waving off her remark as he took a seat at the table. His stomach began to gurgle as the smell of breakfast filled his nostrils. "Where's Ghost?" He asked as Jenny placed a stack of pancakes and a platter of bacon in the center.

"He and Manny already had their breakfast," she replied as she settled in across from him. "Now it's our turn!"

Zayn made no argument there as he filled his plate. The bacon was burnt to a crisp and the pancakes were a little doughy, but he was too hungry to complain. Jenny was never really one for cooking, but Zayn appreciated the attempt nonetheless. "What time did you get in?" He asked between mouthfuls.

Jenny cut her pancakes into fours, lathering butter on each slice before topping them off with a few drizzles of syrup. "Late."

Zayn nodded as he continued eating. Maybe she had forgotten. . .

"We still need to have that talk," Jenny stated as she dipped a sliver of bacon into the puddle of syrup on her plate. Zayn sighed. Nothing ever escaped her notice.

Jenny took a sip of milk from her glass and leaned forward, pressing her elbows against the table as her gaze bore holes in his head. "You know what you did was wrong, right?"

"Yes," Zayn nodded, grabbing the orange juice next to him and raising the glass to his lips. He felt better when he was not forced to look at her directly; the guilt did not nag at him as much. "I promise, Jenny, it won't—"

"You've promised me before that this would stop, Zayn." Jenny cut him off as she pinched the bridge of her nose. This was not the direction she had wanted to take this in. "I'm tired of broken promises."

Zayn remained quiet, nibbling at the last bit of bacon as he stared intently at his plate. It was true, he had promised before to stop participating in battles within the city limits. And he had tried to keep that promise, he had really tried, but he just could not stop. The desire to fight was like a poison to him—it made his skin itch and his blood burn, and the only antidote was to battle. Hell, half of his year-mates were already well on their way as Pokemon trainers! He knew that Officer Jenny meant well, but Legends be damned if he didn't hate her for it sometimes.

"Zayn." Her voice was low, almost a whisper, but it still drew Zayn's attention. He glanced up, noticing for the first time a piece of paper pinned beneath her hand on the table, and his breath froze in his chest. _Oh no,_ he thought as she slid the sheet towards him. _No, not the academy!_

For two years, Jenny had been expressing her wish that he join the Lumiose Police Academy. "You have that fire in you, Zayn," she had explained when he asked her why. "We need people with your drive on the force, and Ghost would be a fantastic partner!" The coursework spanned a total of four years, which would put him at an excellent age for an officer position right after graduation. Now, as the long summer months were coming to an end and fall was creeping up on them, it seemed as though her wish was finally coming true.

Anger boiled in him, flushing his cheeks a dark red as he crossed his arms. "I don't want to go."

"Zayn—"

"I don't _want_ to be a policeman, Jenny. I want to be a trainer!"

"Just read the paper."

There was an underlying tone of exasperation in her voice that stilled his growing rage, and hesitantly Zayn took the paper and read. As his eyes scanned the page, his heart began to pound and his excitement grew. This was not an application for the academy, it was a release form for his school!

He looked up at Jenny, speechless. "Is. . . Is this real?"

Jenny nodded, her eyes misting as she forced a small grin. "Signed, sealed and delivered by the school board, themselves."

Zayn leaned back in his chair, stunned. So this was it. He was officially pardoned from his remaining semesters at school so that he could leave and achieve his dreams. He had seen the release form in the hands of his classmates before, and he had always dreamed of getting his guardian to sign one for him. But now, it all seemed so surreal.

Ghost came trotting over from the kitchen and sat next to his chair, head cocked to one side and tongue lolling out of his mouth as he gazed up at Zayn. He already had his partner, and he knew that Ghost was just as determined as he was to go out there and prove himself. And yet. . .

"Jenny," he said as he sat up. There was still one thing that didn't make sense. "When did you—"

"Since the beginning of summer."

_Summer?_ That had been nearly two months ago. His brow furrowed in confusion as he glanced back down at the letter. "Why did you wait?"

Jenny sighed, combing a hand through her tangled green hair as her eyes shifted to the floor. "I wasn't ready to let go. I'm still not." She turned her gaze to Zayn as a stray tear slipped down her cheek. "But you were never mine, sweetie. I can't—I _won't_ hold you back from pursuing your dreams." She looked down at Ghost and grinned, patting Manny as he came and sat by her. "Besides, I know that Ghost can protect you. You two were made for the road."

Wiping away her tears with the heel of her thumb, Jenny sighed as she locked eyes with Zayn. "Professor Sycamore is expecting you tomorrow morning, along with the other fall starters." A chuckle escaped her throat, as if remembering an old joke that Zayn had never heard before. "You'll finally get that trainer's license you've been wanting."

Zayn could not contain his excitement any longer. Laughing, he poked the last spongy pancake on his plate and help it up for inspection. "Is this why you made breakfast?"

His laughter was infectious, and Jenny soon found herself laughing along with him. "It wasn't very good, was it?" She asked between breaths, holding her stomach as if it would burst open. From their seats on the floor, Ghost and Manny started barking as they contributed their own opinions to the conversation.

As the laughter subsided, Jenny's lips spread into a thin smile. She knew that she could not shelter the boy forever, but it didn't make the reality of it any less daunting. With a small sigh, she stoop up and walked over to Zayn. "Now you promise me," she started as she knelt next to him, "that you will hold nothing back on this, Zayn."

He watched her as she spoke, studying the lines in her face, and his chest tightened. He knew that taking this journey meant leaving Jenny and Lumiose City, and that tugged on his heart. They were all he had known for the past four years, and despite their differing views, Jenny had become an older sister to him. She was the only family he had left; it pained him to know that he would be leaving her behind.

"You have to be strong," she continued, stroking his cheek with a trembling hand. "And you have to be brave. The road is dangerous, even with Ghost at your side." A smile returned to her lips as she ruffled his hair. "But I know you can do it, kid. I've seen your battles, illegal though they were."

Zayn blushed, knocking her hand away playfully as he held up the release form. "Not with this!"

"Not with that." Jenny echoed as she picked up Zayn's pancake and plopped it onto his head. Zayn's mouth hung open in silent surprise, and he erupted into another bought of laughter. "Now, let's clean this place up and head out. We have a lot of shopping to do before your big day tomorrow!"

Tipping his head so that the pancake flopped back onto his plate, Zayn turned around and pulled Jenny into a tight embrace. "Thank you, Jenny. Thank you!"

Startled at first, Officer Jenny quickly recovered and wrapped her arms around Zayn, burying her head in his shoulder. "You always have a home here, Zayn, remember that," she mumbled into his shirt. "If things get too tough, you can always come back."

Zayn stayed quiet as they continued to hold each other, each one drawing strength from the other, but a gnawing thought crept into the back of his mind. He always had a home, that much he knew. But he also knew that he would never come back. He had so much that he wanted to accomplish, so much that he needed to do. He could _not_ give up.


	7. Chapter Three

**Author's Note:** And so it begins! The journey you have all been waiting for is finally here! Took long enough, right?

**Shout-Outs:** Thank you _gallantmon7196_ and _Y-ko_ for your reviews! I'm so pleased to hear that you are liking the story, and I hope you both continue to enjoy the journey!

* * *

_Chapter Three: The First Step  
_

Thin bands of sunlight trickled in through the window, slipping through the sheer curtains and bathing the room in a soft morning glow. The warmth washed over his face like the gentle caress of a hot towel, but Zayn was already wide awake.

Yesterday he had felt like he was running a marathon—Officer Jenny had led him all over Lumiose City, elbowing their way in and out of clothing stores and supermarkets, coaxing him to try on two million different outfits and color-coordinating backpacks with his sneakers. By late evening his head was spinning and his stomach rumbling. Before calling it a day, she had treated him to hamburgers and milkshakes, where they had laughed and talked until their stomachs and their hearts were satisfied.

And last night, while the world slowly turned and the full moon shone bright above the land, he barely slept a wink.

"Dou!"

Zayn lifted his head just as a black blur raced through the open door and bounced up on the bed. "Ghost!" He exclaimed as the Houndour plopped on his chest and licked his face. He was not the only one who was excited, it seemed. Zayn scratched the Houndour behind the ear, laughing at his Pokemon's enthusiasm. "Are you ready for today?"

"Hou!" Ghost yapped, gave Zayn another wet kiss, and hopped off the bed. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Zayn tossed the covers off of him with a sigh and sat up. If he was not going to sleep, he might as well get up. He stifled a yawn and glanced over at the alarm clock by his bed.

_7:46._

Not too bad. The professor was not expecting his arrival until nine.

His eyes shifted to the framed photograph next to the clock. A young couple with their Pokemon at their side smiled back at him, their eyes alive with laughter and youth as they posed beneath the tree. Zayn had never seen the picture before, though he knew that it was the same one his mother had carried in her purse. Aside from a leather wristband studded with tiny silver Pokeballs—a gift from his mother on his tenth birthday that he never took off—it was the only thing of hers that he had left.

With a small smile, Zayn lifted the frame up off of the nightstand and held it in his lap. He felt his cheeks grow hot as tears welled in his eyes, but he quickly blinked them back. This was a happy occasion; his mother would not want him to spoil it by crying.

"Well mom," he said as he ran a finger over the glass, "I did it. I'm finally a trainer."

The girl in the photo said nothing, only smiling up at him in silent mirth, but Zayn took comfort in that. With a whispered goodbye, he set the frame back down and stretched. Whether he was ready for it or not, it was time to move on.

Scratching his head and stifling another yawn, Zayn walked over to his dresser for the last time and, picking out tan cargo pants and a white t-shirt with blue quarter sleeves and a red half-opened Pokeball emblazoned on the front, made his way to the bathroom.

It was half past eight by the time Zayn had showered and changed. Stumbling down the hall as he slipped into his blue and black high-top sneakers, Zayn was greeted by the smell of sausage and egg as he entered the kitchen. His stomach roared, declaring its hunger to the world as he took a seat across from Jenny at the dining table. Her eyes were bloodshot and her hair a tangled mess, and her knuckles were white from gripping her coffee mug so tight, but she managed a weak smile as he sat down.

"I picked up some breakfast tacos," she stated, nodding to the paper bag in the center of the table. "And Ghost already ate."

Zayn smiled as he rummaged through the bag. "You weren't gonna cook?"

Jenny chuckled and shook her head, placing the coffee down as she sliced the flat of her hand through the air like a blade. "Never again will I attempt breakfast."

They shared another short laugh as Zayn bit into the soft taco, but the rest of their meal was savored in silence. They both had a lot on their minds, and neither one really knew exactly how to say goodbye.

By the time Zayn had eaten his fill it was already a quarter to nine. "You should get going," Jenny said, forcing herself to smile as she motioned to the ticking clock on the wall. "It's an early start to a long journey."

Zayn nodded, dusting his hands on his pants as he stood up. Ghost trotted up next to him, dragging the beige knapsack that Zayn and Jenny had picked out yesterday behind him. The contents tumbled out as the bag was tugged across the floor; Ghost eagerly helped Zayn round up the trail of bottled water, bagged foodstuffs, camping equipment and assorted clothing as Jenny laughed.

Once his gear was packed neatly away and Zayn had shouldered the bag, Jenny attached the green bedroll to the top and stood back. "You look every bit the part," she stated as she looked him up and down. Then, reaching into her pocket, she withdrew a large black pocket knife and pressed it into his hand. "For emergencies," she explained. "You never know when you'll need it." Her eyes began to mist over, and she chuckled as she dabbed at them with her knuckle. "Oh, look at me!"

Zayn slipped the knife into his pocket and stepped forward, pulling her into a long embrace as his own vision began to cloud over. "I'm gonna miss you, Jenny."

"Me too, Zayn." Jenny kissed his cheek as she stepped back, a sad smile gracing her lips. Her Manectric nudged at her leg from behind, whimpering softly. "Manny's gonna miss you, too." Kneeling down, she scratched Ghost behind the ear. "And I'll miss you most of all!" She said, laughing as he gingerly licked the breakfast grease from her fingers.

Glancing up at the clock, Jenny stood up and tousled Zayn's hair. "Get going, kid," she said as she handed Zayn the school release form and walked him to the door. "Before I change my mind."

Nodding, Zayn gave her one last hug and, adjusting the weight of the knapsack and bending down to give Manny one last pat on the head, turned and stepped out into Lumiose City. _The first of many steps,_ he thought solemnly as the door to Officer Jenny's apartment closed behind him.

{{{{-]-]-]-]-][-][-[-[-[-[-}}}}

Professor Sycamore's laboratory was an enormous three-story brick building nestled on the edge of Lumiose City's South Boulevard. It's entrance was preceded by a well-manicured lawn, and a sturdy wrought iron fence surrounded the perimeter. At the entrance to the cobblestone walkway were two stone pillars adorned with red Pokeballs carved out of a glossy marble.

Ghost looked up at Zayn and whimpered. "I know boy," Zayn said, adjusting the knapsack on his back as his eyes scanned the building. "I'm scared, too."

"Out of my way!"

Zayn turned just as a young boy with feathery blond hair and thick-rimmed glasses came running up from across the street, a green and black backpack slung haphazardly over one shoulder. He was garbed in a plain green t-shirt and knee-length khakis, with energetic green eyes that glowed with childish enthusiasm; from his short stature and slight build, he could not be any older than ten or eleven.

"Whoa!" Zayn exclaimed as he reached out and grabbed the loose strap of the kid's backpack, pulling him to a halt. "Slow down before you hurt yourself!"

The boy swung his arms wildly, twisting and squirming as he tried to break free from Zayn's grip. "Lemme go! Lemme go!" He shouted, stomping his sandals into the concrete sidewalk.

With a sigh, Zayn released his hold and watched as the kid stumbled forward a few steps. When he whirled around, his round face was flushed a light pink, though Zayn could not tell if it was because he was angry or winded. "What's the big idea?" He demanded, balling his hands into fists. OK, he was angry.

Zayn glanced down at Ghost, who returned his confused look, before turning his attention back to the kid. "What idea?"

"You're making me late!" The boy hollered, pointing an accusatory finger at Zayn. "You're making me late and now I won't get to choose a Pokemon!"

Realization dawned on him, and Zayn pointed to the laboratory. "You're here to see the professor, too?"

The boy rested a fist on his bony hips and huffed. "What'dya mean 'too'?" He asked, gesturing to the Houndour at Zayn's feet. "You have a Pokemon!"

Ghost bared his fangs, displeased with the way the boy was speaking to them, but Zayn silenced him. Digging into the depths of his pants pocket, he withdrew the wrinkled release form and held it up for the boy's inspection. "I'm here to get my trainer's license." He then knelt down and scratched the Houndour behind his ear. "Ghost is my partner. I'm not here to get another one."

Seemingly at ease with his explanation, the annoyance in the boy's eyes melted away and the childlike glimmer returned. "You got a Pokemon _before_ your license?" He asked, squatting down so that he was face-to-face with Ghost. The Houndour shifted nervously, looking to Zayn for assurance. Zayn laughed and patted Ghost's back. "Well, it's more like he found me." Almost as an afterthought, he extended his hand in courtesy. "Name's Zayn."

The kid grasped his outstretched hand excitedly, his glasses slipping down his nose as they shook. "Harry! Harry Bo Whitestar!"

"Well, Harry," Zayn said, adjusting the knapsack as they stood back up. "I guess we should get in there. We're late."

His eyes widening, Harry nodded and together they headed towards the lab. _Well,_ Zayn thought as Ghost padded next to him, _at least I'm not the only one starting this journey late._

As soon as they walked in, a lady in a flowing white lab coat greeted them at the door. Her lavender hair was cropped short, and she wore half-moon spectacles that were attached to a chain around her neck. She eyed the Houndour by Zayn's feet warily, but made no mention of him. "Your release forms, please." They both handed her their sheets of paper, which she inspected thoroughly before nodding and pinning them to the clipboard she had tucked beneath her arm. "Leave your belongings here. You can pick them up on your way out," she instructed them as she turned down a corridor to their right. "Up the stairs, third floor and to the left. The professor's expecting you two."

Zayn glanced at Harry and shrugged, slipping the straps off of his shoulders and setting the knapsack beside Harry's backpack against the wall. Motioning for Ghost to follow, the boys silently ascended the stairs and made their way to where the professor awaited them.

Bookshelves lined nearly every wall on the third floor, and in the many rooms they passed by Zayn caught several peeks at large computers with numerous multicolored lights blinking on and off, and everywhere scientists in white lab coats ran back and forth, jotting down test results and monitoring the computers for any significant changes.

Harry whistled and leaned in closer to Zayn as they walked past an assistant with a mug of steaming coffee in his hand and dark circles under his eyes. "I bet this place never sleeps!"

Zayn could only nod in agreement as they came to a set of solid oak doors at the end of the corridor. Curved handles in the shape of gold-plated Pokeballs jutted out from the center, and an enormous bronze '_S_' was painted on each door. "Well," Zayn muttered down to Ghost as he brushed his fingers over the wood. "This must be it."

Harry was nearly quaking with excitement as he grabbed the doorknobs with both hands and shoved as hard as he could.

The office was brilliantly lit, with high-vaulted ceilings and more bookshelves along the back wall. In the center of the room was a large wooden desk laden with open boxes and stacks of paper, and to the left was an enormous window that overlooked the laboratory's backyard. The walls were all painted in a rich dark blue, adorned with a variety of paintings and letters of recognition, and the floor was a slick green-flecked marble.

"Ah, you''re here!"

Zayn turned as a tall thin man with curly dark hair emerged from their right. He was dressed in the same white lab coat as his assistants, though he wore a high-collared blue shirt and tight black pants beneath it. The buckle on his belt was a golden Pokeball, and on his feet were brown slip-on shoes. "Tres bien!"

Harry rushed past Zayn, nearly tripping over his feet in his furor. "Professor!" He exclaimed, grabbing the man's hand in both of his and giving it a firm shake. "Harry Bo Whitestar! I'd like to get my Pokemon now!"

"Ah, Harry!" Professor Sycamore said, slowly pulling his hand free and stepping back a few paces. "Yes, your parents warn—er, told me about you. Such enthusiasm!"

Harry beamed with pride, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose as he turned and pointed behind him. "And that's Zayn! I don't know his last name, but he already has a Pokemon!" Then, turning around, he scanned the area behind the professor eagerly. "Can I pick _my_ Pokemon now?"

"You have to be registered as a trainer, first." A soft voice spoke up from behind them.

Zayn turned around as a young girl stepped into the office. Her wavy crimson hair was pulled into tight pigtails, pinned in place with light gray bows, and she wore a beige knee-length skirt with black leggings that complemented her long legs. Her white t-shirt had a red five-point star sprawled in the center, but it was barely visible beneath the gray vest, and her dress shoes were the same light brown as her eyes. Strapped to her side was a brown and blue satchel, and her hands were cloaked in white fingerless gloves. She glanced at the Houndour by Zayn's feet and sighed. "Apparently, you didn't know that."

Professor Sycamore spread his arms wide, a grin alighting his gaunt face. "Splendid, you all made it! Tres bien!" Then, clearing his throat, he motioned towards the girl. "You are correct though, young lady!"

With a wave that beckoned they all follow his lead, the professor strolled over to his desk. "Before you can choose your starter," he began as he rummaged through the boxes that littered the top, "and before you can battle, you must first"—he finally opened the desk drawer and pulled out three slim rectangular items—"become registered as Pokemon trainers!"

Zayn's heart began to pump with anticipation as the professor slowly fanned the electronic devices out on his desk. Though they each varied in color, all three had the same white horizontal line that slashed through the middle of the Pokeball logo in its center.

"This here," Professor Sycamore explained as he held up the pink one and handed it to the girl, "is a Pokedex. These are each programmed specifically for you, and will serve as your trainer's license and as a guide on your journey."

Zayn watched as the girl pressed a button on the bottom of the Pokedex. The white line glowed as the top half of the device slid up, revealing a thin holographic screen, and an image of her began to form in its center.

"_Angel Diffido from Lumiose City of the Kalos region,_" an animated voice declared, and several charts with numbers started to appear next to her image. "_Current rank: beginner, current badge count: zero. This Pokedex serves as authorization that Angel Diffido is a registered Pokemon trainer, as regulated by the Kalos division of the International Pokemon League Organization and validated by Professor Augustine Sycamore._"

Professor Sycamore picked up the other two Pokedexes—one a hunter green and the other a steel blue—and handed them to Harry and Zayn, respectively. "In addition to your encyclopedia," he started as he rummaged through another box on his desk. Pulling out a small, ornate wooden box with three elemental symbols engraved in the lid, he carefully set it down and beamed at them. "You will need to pick your starter!"

Next to him, Harry pumped his fist into the air in excitement. "Finally!" He hollered as the professor opened the lid and set it aside. Zayn glanced down at Ghost, who gazed up at him in uncertainty, before leaning in to get a better look at what was inside. The inside of the box was lined with a soft purple velvet, and there were three Pokeballs nestled in the cushion, each one adorned with the symbol of the Pokemon it held within. _The other kids must've come by already,_ Zayn thought as he observed the three empty slots where Pokeballs once sat.

Professor Sycamore glanced at all of them pointedly as he picked up the ball with a green leaf on its top half and tossed it around in his hand. "I warn all of you, before you take this final step. This is a long and dangerous road you are about to embark on. Many trainers have come back defeated, and a few have even perished on their path to glory." He then returned the Pokeball carefully to its resting place and motioned to the three young trainers. "If you are truly prepared, then step forward and claim your right as trainers!"

Zayn pocketed the blue Pokedex and stepped back, watching as Harry lurched forward and nabbed the ball with the leaf. "This one's mine!" He exclaimed as he pressed the white button and released the Pokemon within. A small Pokemon with light brown fur and a green shell on its back emerged from the red light, rubbing its tired eyes with tiny hands as it glanced up at Harry. The boy's eyes widened in excitement as he held up his Pokedex and pressed the button.

"_Chespin, the Spiny Nut Pokemon._" The device declared as a picture of the little creature appeared on the screen. "_Chespin can flex the soft spikes on its head, making them so stiff and sharp that it can even pierce through stone._"

Harry knelt down next to the Chespin and pulled it into a tight embrace. "We're gonna be a great team, Chespin!" He shouted as the Chespin squirmed in his grasp. "C'mon, we should get started!"

"Excuse me, professor?" The girl, Angel, spoke up as Harry and his somewhat reluctant Chespin made their exit. Zayn glanced at her as she pointed to the box. "It's customary for new trainers to pick from three designated starters, but I see six spots in the box for Pokeballs."

"Well, Angel," Professor Sycamore said as he picked up the two remaining Pokeballs. They both had a blue water drop emblazoned on the front, which Zayn found peculiar. Usually, only one water Pokemon was available as a starter to new trainers. "Normally there are only three starters to choose from, as there are only three new trainers that begin their journey at any given time. However, there was a mix-up with the League Organization's scheduling for our fall starters, and I had to expand the roster to six. This kind of thing usually happens when we have people register last minute."

He held out the Pokeballs in each hand, his gaze shifting from Zayn to Angel and back again. "The only two left are the water-types. If you're ready, you may choose your starter."

Without hesitation, Angel reached out with a gloved hand and grabbed the Pokeball closest to her. "I guess I'll take this one," she whispered as she pressed the button and released the ball. When the light subsided, a blue frog-like critter with yellow eyes and white bubbles around its neck and nose hopped towards her.

Holding up her Pokedex, Angel activated the encyclopedia and waited for the entry to read out.

"_Froakie, the Bubble Frog Pokemon. From its chest and back, Froakie creates bubbles called Frubbles, which act as a cushion and soften the blow of an opponent's attack."_

A small smile tugging at her lips, Angel bent down and patted the little frog. "Hi, Froakie. I'm Angel, and I'd like to be your partner!" The Froakie croaked and smiled back, gripping her hand with its two white forepaws. Giggling, Angel scooped up the Froakie in her arms and carried him out of the office.

Professor Sycamore grinned as he held out the remaining Pokeball. "Well, Zayn, it looks like Squirtle is your new companion!"

Zayn shook his head and knelt down beside Ghost. "No, professor," he said as he scratched the Houndour behind the ear. "Ghost is my partner. I just came for my license." Ghost licked Zayn's hand affectionately as the professor sighed.

"Officer Jenny did mention your other Pokemon," he explained as he knelt down next to the pair. "You can keep Houndour as your companion, Zayn. But the Organization decrees that all beginners must start off with a registered starter. It's what they're bred for, and it puts everyone at ease knowing that our future champions are beginning their journeys with the right Pokemon."

Taking Zayn's hand, the professor pressed the Pokeball into his palm. "Now, I know you're used to it just being you and your Houndour, and there's nothing wrong with that. But think about this." He stood up and leaned against his desk, drumming long thin fingers against the wood. "As a trainer, you'll need all the help on this journey that you can get. That kind of help is something that Squirtle can give you!"

It was something that Zayn realized he had no say in; it was either leave with Squirtle, or turn in his Pokedex and go home before he even got started. Defeated, Zayn turned his gaze to Ghost and sighed. "Well, are you ready for this?"

"Dou!"

With a small grin, Zayn nodded and stood up. Maybe it would not be so bad after all. Pressing the button on the Pokeball in hand, he released the Squirtle from its confines and pulled out his Pokedex.

"_Squirtle, the Tiny Turtle Pokemon._" The device stated, a picture of the blue turtle forming on the screen. "_It draws its long neck into its shell to launch incredible water attacks with amazing range and accuracy. The blasts can be quite powerful._"

The Squirtle blinked and looked up at Zayn. "Squirtle?" It chimed, its violet eyes twinkling with mirth as they swept back to the floor. . . and froze.

"Hou!" Zayn and Professor Sycamore looked down just as Ghost stepped forward, fangs bared and a low grumble rising in his throat. "Houndour, hou!"

The Squirtle's eyes narrowed as it raised its arms defensively. "Squirtle, squirtle!"

Zayn blinked as he ordered Ghost to stand down, but the Houndour paid little attention to him.

"Oh my," Professor Sycamore muttered. "It seems your Houndour dislikes Squirtle, though whether it's due to type weakness or a clash of personalities I couldn't say." He chuckled and scratched his head. "You have your work cut out for you with these two, Zayn!"

His shoulders sagging, Zayn returned Squirtle back into the Pokeball and clipped the ball to a velcroed slot on the waistline of his pants. He glanced down at Ghost, who gazed back up at him and wagged his tail as if nothing had happened. _Great,_ he thought with a sigh. _This is not how I pictured my first day as a trainer turning out._

Thanking Professor Sycamore for his aid, Zayn motioned to Ghost and together they took their leave. He finally had his license and his heart soared at the possibilities that opened up with that thin blue device in his pocket. But if the professor was right about his new Pokemon and Ghost not getting along, then it was going to be a very long journey.


	8. Chapter Four

**Author's Note:** Sorry that it's been so long since my last update! Writer's block makes for terrible company. But here it is, the next chapter! Enjoy!

**Shout-Outs:** Thank you _RamenKnight_ for your reviews! I hope that Ghost hasn't come across as freakishly big, though. But he is above average by Houndour standards, as most runts usually are! And there may or may not be a benefit to this later on. . . ;)

* * *

_Chapter Four: A New Kind of Family  
_

The weight of the knapsack felt good on his back as Zayn stepped out of the research lab and back into the midday sun. It all still felt like a dream, and having the bag strapped securely to him and the feel of the Pokedex in his pocket served as his link to the reality of it all. He was an official Pokemon trainer now!

Ghost padded along next to him as they headed toward the gate to Route Four. Before he had left, one of Professor Sycamore's assistants had given him five empty Pokeballs and pointed him in the direction of Santalune City. It was no more than a two days' walk, and it would be the starting point for his Kalos gym battles.

His path loomed before him as Zayn halted just before the gate opening. Beyond the cobblestone walls lay a dirt road and a sprawling forest, two stepping stones to the adventure of his lifetime. Zayn glanced over his shoulder at the city where he had spent the last four years of his life, and a moment of uncertainty took hold of him. This was the first time since his mother's death that he would set foot outside Lumiose City's walls—was he really ready for this?

Zayn shifted his gaze to Ghost, who looked back up at him with surety, and a surge of confidence rushed through him as he brushed a finger over the Pokeball at his belt. He had his first Pokemon and his best friend at his side, how could he not be ready?

"Well buddy," Zayn started as he adjusted the knapsack on his shoulders. "We better get going!"

The Houndour let loose an excited bark and bounded ahead. Laughing, Zayn stepped onto the dirt path that led out of the city and followed the pup down the road. After all these years, his past was finally behind him.

It was nearly dark by the time the duo made it to the edge of a river that snaked through the center of the route, marking the halfway point for the first of many legs to their journey. It had been a quiet uneventful walk, though by the last hour Zayn's legs had started to cramp up. As the sun sank lower in the sky, Zayn secured a spot next to a large boulder close to the riverbank and began to set up camp.

Or, at least, attempted to. The Houndour it seemed had other plans.

"Stop!" Zayn ordered as Ghost pulled loose one of the sticks he had collected for a fire. The Houndour barked and bounded to the river, the stick clenched firmly between his jowls. Zayn abandoned his unfurled bedroll and chased after the pup. "Ghost, drop it!"

Ghost stopped a few paces ahead and cocked his head to one side, his stubby tail wagging enthusiastically as Zayn crept closer. "Good boy," Zayn whispered, holding his hands up as he carefully edged nearer. "Give me the stick."

Just when he was within reach, Ghost jumped to the side and dashed back to their campsite, leaving Zayn stumbling in his wake.

"Damnit, Ghost!"

Zayn turned and started to take off after the Pokemon when his foot was snagged by an upturned tree root. Losing his balance, he fell to the ground hard. "Damnit!" He beat his fists on the hard-packed earth in frustration as he forced back the tears for his throbbing chin. This was definitely _not_ how he wanted his journey to start out!

"Squirtle?"

Surprised, Zayn looked up to see the little blue turtle standing over him, violet eyes glimmering in the fading sunlight. _How did. . . ?_ His hand fiddled for the Pokeball that should have been strapped to the waistline of his pants, but his fingers groped at nothing but air. A quick glance to his right revealed the red-and-white ball with the water drop symbol on its face lying open next to him. _It must've come loose when I fell!_

"Squir!" The Squirtle grinned and patted the top of Zayn's unruly curls, almost sympathetically, with a tiny clawed hand. Zayn blinked, confused, before he realized that the Squirtle was actually asking him if he was OK.

Laughing, Zayn pushed himself to his knees and nodded. "I'm fine, thank you."

The Squirtle beamed up at him. "Squirtle, squir!"

A low rumble behind them drew his attention, and Zayn's heart sank in his chest. Ghost was standing next to their campsite, his eyes narrowed and fangs bared, the stick he had stolen during play lying forgotten at his feet. _Oh shit. . ._

Zayn stood up warily as the Squirtle turned around and began to argue with the Houndour. "Ghost," he cautioned as the two bickered back and forth, but the pup paid him no mind. He decided to try his luck with the turtle. "Squirtle, stand down!"

No response, not even an acknowledgement from either of them.

It was hopeless, Zayn realized with a sigh as both Pokemon continued to argue. These two were just not going to get along. He felt utterly, completely lost in that moment. They were supposed to be a team, the three of them, and yet his Pokemon could not stand the _sight_ of each other! How was he supposed to fix this? How _could_ he fix it?

"Trouble in paradise?"

Zayn turned at the sound of the familiar voice, a shy whisper barely audible over the quarreling Pokemon. The girl from Professor Sycamore's laboratory was standing several feet behind him, both hands clutching at the satchel dangling over her shoulder as the Froakie she had chosen for her starter sat next to her, surveying Zayn's bickering team with contempt.

Anger boiled under his skin, coloring his cheeks a deep red as he crossed his arms defiantly. "I have it under control." The last thing he needed was for this _girl_ to tell him how he should run his team!

Angel pointed to the two just as Squirtle was charging at Ghost, one clawed hand extended in an attempt at a scratch. "I can see that."

Zayn turned and ducked just as a fireball blasted by him, scorching the thin tree that he had been standing next to. _Damnit!_

"Ghost!" He boomed as he made his way to the Pokemon. "Squirtle, stop!" How did this _happen?!_

He reached the two before they could retaliate, one hand clasped firmly at the scruff on the back of the Houndour's neck and the other pushing against the Squirtle's shelled chest. "Stop this!" Zayn roared, more forcibly than he had originally intended. But the two Pokemon backed down, although they were not above exchanging icy glares as they fumed in place.

Zayn glanced back at Angel, who continued to watch him with a disturbingly judgemental sort of interest, before leaning in closer to Ghost. The Houndour stared up at him, his eyes portraying an emotional mix of shame and confusion. "You can't keep doing this, buddy," Zayn murmured as he relaxed his grip some. Squirtle nudged against his hand and Zayn glanced over at the turtle. "I can't do this with you two fighting like that!"

The two Pokemon glanced at each other and then looked away. Zayn sighed. "This is an adventure," he said as he slowly let them go. _"Our_ adventure! We're all in this together, whether we like it or not."

Ghost grunted, displeased, and Squirtle hissed back. Zayn felt his blood boiling again. "Get over it," he commanded, "both of you! Or I'm sticking you _both_ in a Pokeball!"

Behind him, he heard Angel _tsk._ Zayn whirled on her. "Why are you still here?" He hollered, fighting back the hot tears that stung at his eyes. The last thing he wanted right now was an audience; he already felt incompetent, he didn't need to be reminded of it.

Angel gazed at him pointedly before shaking her head, her crimson pigtails swaying with the motion. "A trainer who can't control his Pokemon will not get very far out here." Next to her, Froakie croaked in agreement.

"I can handle my team without your help!" Zayn exclaimed, giving Ghost a sharp jab when he attempted another growl. "I have my boys under control!"

"If you insist." Angel shrugged her shoulders and turned to leave. "Just so you know, your Squirtle is a female."

Zayn was about to retort, but instead he clenched his jaw. A female? He glanced down at the tiny turtle in disbelief. _How did I not know?_

"Before you try and act like you know what you're doing," Angel started as she bent down to pick up her Froakie, "do a little research first. You might actually learn something helpful." And with that, she disappeared into the growing darkness.

Zayn stayed crouched between his Pokemon for awhile longer, Angel's words echoing in his head. _Do your research._ He wiped his eyes with the back of a hand and looked between Squirtle and Ghost as they stared up at him expectantly, their gazes never lingering upon the other for too long. _How am I supposed to do that?_

He stood up and stretched, scratching his head as he eyed his partners warily. They remained where they sat, avoiding eye contact with one another beneath the light of the rising moon. He had to do something to stop this, and soon. "Research, huh?"

His hand brushed absently against his pants leg, thumping against the electronic encyclopedia nestled in his pocket, and Zayn's eyes widened in realization. "Of course!"

He withdrew the Pokedex from his pocket and pressed the button. The top half slid upward and a picture of himself appeared on the holographic center. "_Zayn Harker from Lumiose City of the Kalos region,"_ it began, the animated voice catching his Pokemon's interest. "_This Pokedex serves as authorization that Zayn Harker is a registered Pokemon trainer, as regulated by the—"_

"There, you see!" Zayn interjected. Squirtle and Ghost glanced up at him. "I'm your trainer. You have to listen to me!"

Ghost barked excitedly, nudging Zayn's leg with his nose as he cast Squirtle a smug glance. Squirtle rolled her eyes and huffed, unsatisfied with this resolution. "Hey, come on!" Zayn urged. "As your trainer, it's important to me that y'all get along."

"Squirtle!" The turtle exclaimed, gesturing towards Ghost fervently. Ghost bristled and yapped back. Zayn shook his head, confused. "I don't. . ."

"_Houndour, the Dark Pokemon. Houndour travel in packs and communicate though barks in order to surround their prey._" The Pokedex blurted as a picture of a Houndour appeared in place of Zayn's image.

Zayn grinned and turned the Pokedex so that Ghost could see it. "Hear that?" Zayn asked. Ghost flicked an ear in his direction. "You're a pack Pokemon! And Squirtle here," Zayn explained as he motioned towards Squirtle, "is a member of our pack now!"

Ghost snorted and shook his head. "Dour!"

"Squirtle, squirt!"

"_By nature,_" the Pokedex spoke up as the two Pokemon began arguing again, "_fire-types hold an aversion to water-type Pokemon. The two types will almost never get along._"

Zayn cursed under his breath as he turned off the Pokedex and shoved it back into his pocket. "Well I'm out of ideas, here!" He announced as he held up Squirtle's Pokeball. "Return, Squirtle." He then glared at Ghost, who gazed up at him, tongue lolling out of his mouth in what Zayn could only assume to be the pup's attempt at a grin.

"This is _not_ going to continue," he told the Houndour. "Eventually you'll have to learn to get along."

"Houndour!" Ghost barked, wagging his stubby tail. Zayn rolled his eyes and walked back to the campsite. It was already dark, he was sore and hungry, and his Pokemon absolutely hated each other. What more could go wrong on this journey?

{{{{-]-]-]-]-][-][-[-[-[-[-}}}}

He had not slept well.

The ground beneath his bedroll was hard on his back, causing him to toss and turn throughout the night in hopes of finding comfort, and there were too many sounds in the surrounding forests. As thin tendrils of sunlight caressed his face, Zayn yawned and reluctantly opened his eyes, feeling more exhausted than when he had fallen asleep. A glance to the left of the charred fire pit told him that Ghost had not found any trouble sleeping at all.

Stifling another yawn, Zayn sat up and stretched. Ghost stirred from his slumber, and together they ate some prepackaged breakfast sandwiches and gathered up their supplies. "If we start early," Zayn explained as he rolled up his bedroll, "then we'll make great time getting to Santalune."

"Hou!" Ghost barked in agreement.

After a quick dip in the river Zayn changed out of his pajamas and, shouldering his knapsack, kicked loose the pile of sticks he had burned for a fire and started back to the road. His first night out in the world had left many thoughts running through his mind. Namely, he concerned himself with how he was going to get Ghost and Squirtle to work together.

"I know y'all don't get along," Zayn mused aloud as his Houndour padded next to him. "But this adventure is important to me, Ghost." He ducked to avoid a low-hanging branch. "I know it's been just you and me since. . ." His voice trailed off as he glanced down at the studded leather band strapped to his left wrist—the gift his mother had given him almost five years ago, on his tenth birthday. It was the very last thing she had given him, two days before they were supposed to leave. . .

Stubbornly, he shook his head. _The past is in the past, now._ "But that won't be enough to get us very far," he continued as they trudged through the thicket. "We have to rely on our team, buddy. We're not alone anymore."

Ghost sneezed as he looked up at Zayn, his yellow eyes meeting the trainer's, and for a moment Zayn thought he saw understanding in the pup's gaze. And in the next second, that moment was gone as Ghost averted his gaze and narrowed his eyes, a deep rumble rising in his throat as he took a cautionary step forward.

Zayn rolled his eyes, defeated. "Why do I even bother?"

But then, he heard what Ghost was hearing. Shouts and cheers reverberated off the surrounding trees, seemingly coming from every direction. "What the—?"

And then Ghost was off, bolting down the path ahead of them with a yap. It took Zayn awhile to catch up, jumping over fallen tree limbs and crashing through thorny bushes, all the while praying that he did not trip over himself.

"What the Hell, Ghost!" He exclaimed once he emerged through the trees and into a small clearing. It wasn't like the Houndour to run off like that. But as Zayn looked up, he immediately understood why.

A small crowd was gathered around the edge of the clearing, whooping and cheering as two kids stepped into the center. Zayn recognized the overly-energetic Harry as one of those kids, his fists pumping excitedly in the air as he worked himself up, but the other kid was a stranger to him.

"What's going on?" Zayn wondered as he watched the two boys exchange words. Ghost sat down next to him, observing the commotion with interest.

"It's a Pokemon battle."

Zayn turned to see an older girl of about seventeen standing next to him, her blond hair sweeping well past her shoulders. She was clad in a purple-and-white swirled tank top that stood out boldly in contrast to her pale skin, slim-fitting jeans and plain white sneakers. Strapped behind her was a dark purple backpack, and around her waist was a white belt with a Pokeball hooked in place. The thin silver watch around her right wrist shimmered in the morning sun, and her chocolate brown eyes reminded Zayn of the playful Skiddos that frequented the streets of Lumiose City. She was beautiful, though he would not dare to openly admit to that.

When he didn't respond, she turned to look at him. "Haven't you seen one before?"

"Of course I have!" Zayn blurted, turning away so she would not see the blush that colored his cheeks. "I've actually been in some."

She glanced down at Ghost and _tsk_ed. "Illegally, I bet. I wouldn't go around bragging about that if I were you. People might call you a cheat."

"How would you know?" Zayn shot back, slipping the knapsack off his shoulder and sitting on the ground next to his Houndour.

The girl took a seat next to him, indifferent to his change in tone. "Because a Houndour isn't a starter Pokemon, which tells me that you weren't a trainer when you two battled. _Illegally."_

"What are you, a cop?" Zayn crossed his arms. "Besides, how d'you know I'm not a trainer from somewhere else?" He cast her a sidelong glance in time to see her raise an eyebrow.

"You're kidding, right?"

"Let's do this!" Harry's shrill statement cut through the tension between Zayn and the girl like a knife, drawing their attention back towards the center of the clearing. Ghost's ears perked up as the other boy, a tall kid with broad shoulders and thick shaggy brown hair, smirked and tossed out a Pokeball.

When the red light subsided, an orange reptilian Pokemon with a small flame burning at the end of its slender tail blinked and gazed back at its trainer. Zayn sat forward, digging out his Pokedex. "What Pokemon is that?" Next to him, the girl _tsk_ed again and muttered under her breath, "Newbie."

"_Charmander, the Lizard Pokemon,_" the Pokedex stated as Zayn held up the screen. "_Charmander's health can be gauged by the fire on the tip of its tail, which burns intensely when it's in good health._"

Zayn lowered the encyclopedia and turned his gaze to the Charmander's trainer. "So he must be one of the other starters from Kalos, then."

"His name's Jared," the girl informed him, hugging her knees as she leaned back against a tree. "His cousin's the champion of Sinnoh, I think. At least that's what he says." She shrugged. "I guess we'll see how good he is pretty soon."

Zayn glanced over to where the two onlookers were standing. The one with the crimson pigtails and the gray vest he recognized as Angel. He leaned closer to the girl and gestured to the other stranger. "So who is she?"

The girl shook her head and pressed a finger to her lips. "Introductions after. The battle's about to start."

Zayn looked down at Ghost as he leaned up against his knapsack. _This is good,_ he thought as Harry sent out his Chespin. _These are my rivals, we need to study their battle styles._

"Alright, Rook, let's take him down with Tackle!" Harry hollered.

His Chespin, Rook, glanced back at his trainer nervously. "Pin. . ."

The girl leaned into Zayn as Harry urged his Pokemon on. "That poor Chespin doesn't stand a chance," she commented as Rook hesitantly lowered its head and charged at the Charmander, the spikes on the shell around his head stiffening to deadly points.

"What d'ya mean?" Zayn asked, his eyes never wavering from the battle. The Charmander narrowly dodged the incoming blow, pivoting on its clawed feet to deliver a forceful Scratch as the Chespin struggled to regain his balance. The attack glanced harmlessly off of Rook's green shell.

The girl shrugged. "It's fire against grass. Generally, fire will win."

Zayn remained silent as he glanced at Ghost. _We've beaten those odds before,_ he smirked to himself as he stroked the Houndour's scarred back. Ghost wagged his stubby tail at the affection. _We've beaten a lot of odds together._

"I'm Morgen by the way," the girl said, interrupting his thoughts as she extended a hand. "Morgen Gedeon."

Zayn shook her hand, his eyes still fixated on the battle. "Zayn Harker."

"Charmander, intimidate him with Growl!" Jared ordered, his voice surprisingly deep for a kid his age.

The orange salamander planted its feet firmly on the ground, narrowing its blue eyes as it let loose a tiny roar at the Chespin. Rook visibly shuddered and stumbled a few paces back, shaking his armored head and muttering wildly at Harry. Next to Zayn, Morgen _tsk_ed. "The poor thing doesn't even want to battle."

Harry gestured at the Chespin as he shouted more commands. "Tackle again, Rook! Hit him hard!"

Rook chittered angrily at the young boy, defiant, while the Charmander scratched its head and glanced at its trainer uncertainly. On the other side of the makeshift battlefield, Jared laughed. "Give up yet, kid?"

Harry waved a fist in his direction, just as defiant as his Chespin. "You kidding? We're just getting warmed up!" Zayn could not help but snicker as Rook sighed in defeat.

From their spot on the sidelines Ghost barked unexpectedly, drawing all eyes towards them for a brief moment. "Hey!" Zayn hissed, blushing as he flicked the Houndour's ear. "None of that!" Across the clearing, he saw Angel shake her head and his blush deepened as their conversation from last night replayed in his mind. _"A trainer who can't control his Pokemon. . ."_

"Hey, Zayn!" Zayn looked up to see Harry waving enthusiastically at him. "I'll take you on after I whip this guy!" Zayn sighed. Was this kid ever _not_ excited?

Morgen bumped his shoulder, smirking as the battle resumed, much to Rook's reluctance. "Gotta admire the kid's confidence."

Zayn nodded, patting Ghost's head as the Houndour lay next to him. The battle didn't last too much longer.

"Dodge his attack, Charmander!" Jared hollered as the Chespin charged at Charmander again. Charmander jumped to the right, pivoted, and then leaped into the air. "Knock him out with Ember!"

The salamander's tail blazed intensely as Charmander released a spray of red-hot flames from its mouth. The unsuspecting Chespin turned a second too soon as the blast smacked him square in the chest, sending him flailing backwards. "Rook!" Harry shouted as he ran to his fallen Pokemon's side, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose as he knelt down. "You did good," he whispered as he cradled the unconscious Chespin. He then glanced up at Jared and smirked. "We'll be ready next time!"

Jared scratched his head as he returned his Charmander back to its Pokeball. "Sure, kid," he muttered as he fiddled with a pendant dangling loosely from his neck. "Next time."

"Well!" Morgen exclaimed as she pushed herself to her feet. "That's enough excitement for one morning."

Zayn stood up, stretched, and picked up his knapsack. The sun was climbing higher in the sky, and he still had a long trek to Santalune City. Turning to Morgen, he nodded as he shouldered his bag. "It was nice meeting you, but I should get going." Next to him, Ghost whimpered.

Morgen raised a brow and motioned to the group as they gathered their things. "We're all headed the same way, Harker," she said as she slung her backpack over one shoulder. "Might as well travel together."

Zayn shook his head. He never did well in a big crowd of people; it was uncomfortable for him. "I'd rather travel alone, it's eas—"

"Do you know what they call trainers who start in the fall?"

Zayn turned as Jared strolled up, his hazel eyes flicking between him and Morgen. He was a tall kid, Zayn observed as he adjusted the weight of his bag. He was dressed in a plain orange t-shirt and loose-fitting jeans, brown hiking boots strapped to his feet and a silver Charizard pendant hanging around his neck. Zayn shrugged his shoulders. "What?"

Angel and the other girl stepped forward, forming a semicircle around him. "They call us Fail Starters," Harry piped up, adjusting the straps of his backpack as he hugged Rook to his chest. "As in, most of us who start this late are going to fail."

_I don't plan on that,_ Zayn thought as he glanced down at Ghost. The Houndour returned his gaze, head cocked to one side as he waited for Zayn's next move. _They'll only bring us down._

"Look, you can do what you want." Angel remarked, drawing Zayn's attention back to her. "We're all rivals here, there's no illusions to that. We're also the last ones of the year to start our journey. _Everyone_ expects us to fail. We might all stay together, or we might eventually go our separate ways." She shrugged. "Either way, we all have the same goal: to win."

The girl next to Angel nodded and shot Zayn a toothy grin. Her wavy ginger hair was tucked neatly beneath a bandana as blue as her eyes, and the sleeveless blue-and-white striped top she wore brought our the freckles that were specked across her cheeks. "I wasn't too fond of the idea either," she explained. "But the way I see it, we're all stuck with this sort of stigma hanging over our heads. The best way to overcome it, I think, is to help build each other up. Six heads gotta be better than one, right?"

Morgen nodded. "I agree with Pepper, here." The redhead shot her an icy glare—"It's Iona!"—but Morgen waved it off. "We're all like one big family! Think about it, kid. Where else will you find both your main competition _and_ your biggest support group?"

Zayn sighed. He really didn't want to travel with a group, this was never how he envisioned his journey going. _Things don't always go the way you want them too,_ he reminded himself. But then a small voice in the back of his mind, no louder than a tiny echo, spoke up. _Would it be so bad?_

After several moments in silence, Zayn finally nodded. "OK," he mumbled. "I'll tag along."

Grinning, Morgen thumped his shoulder with her fist. "Well, Harker, welcome to the Sensational Six!"

"We never agreed on a group name," Jared interjected, strolling next to Morgen as they headed out of the clearing.

"I thought we were going to be called something cool, like Fall Winners!" Harry beamed as he stumbled after them, tousling a slumbering Rook around in his arms.

Giving Zayn another nod, Iona trailed after them. "We're not naming ourselves, that's just weird!" She exclaimed as she bounded after the trio.

Before turning to leave, Angel looked Zayn up and down, her brown eyes alight with a curious interest. "You still have a lot to learn," she whispered. "I hope this group can help with that. I'd like to see what you might be capable of when push comes to shove."

Zayn hung back for awhile, watching as Angel disappeared behind the treeline. He had never heard of trainers traveling together, but then again he had never really heard of anyone completing the gym circuit and dethroning the Kalos champion, either. With one last look around the clearing, Zayn beckoned to Ghost and together they set out to rejoin their unusual acquaintances. _What did I just get myself in to?_


	9. Interlude Two

**Author's Note:** I believe it's time to give credit where credit is due!

To _FinalPower_, for submitting the charming Morgen Gedeon;  
to _meteorce_, for your submission of the remarkable Angel Diffido;  
to _StallsalotHB_, for giving me permission to use Harry Bo Whitestar;  
to _aggies2015_, for letting me use Jared Knighton;  
to _Something dictionary related_, for submitting the fiery Iona Pepper Cza;  
to _Shadow Serenity 57_, for submitting Cassandra Pierce (who is introduced in this chapter);  
and to _Reaper of Books_, for allowing me to use Klaüs Sen!

Now, there are still a few original submissions that have yet to be revealed, but rest assured that they will add some excitement to the story!

* * *

_The Reaper, the Hunter and the Shade: An Interlude_

Garren scowled into his coffee cup, watching with vague interest as the steam twined through the air in an upward spiral. It had been nearly five years since he had set foot inside one of Lumiose City's cafes, and under better circumstances he might have enjoyed the visit.

"Cream or sugar?" The waitress was a plump older woman, with flecks of red in her pepper-gray hair and the musky scent of cigarettes on her breath. There were many lines etched in her sagging face that, if he dared to look closer, whispered to him about years of hard work and long-buried regrets.

Garren waved her off, his scowl deepening as he lifted the steaming cup to his lips and took a sip. The coffee was bitter, and left tiny grains on the tip of his tongue, but he didn't mind. He liked the bite that came with drinking it black.

As he set the cup back down on the matching dessert plate with a soft _clink_, his blue eyes surveyed the cityscape around him. Taxis sped by, toting their passengers down North Boulevard in a frenzy as well-dressed citizens walked to and fro, some with briefcases in hand and all with a look of comfortable ease pasted on their faces. A group of kids rolled past the cafe window on bikes and roller skates, laughing as they played tag or raced or did whatever it was that kids these days were doing. Garren watched them until they were gone from view, and for a moment he found himself reminiscing on his childhood—or, rather, lack there of. He took another sip of his coffee, this time savoring the bitterness on his tongue until that moment had passed.

"Hello, Garren." The voice was pinched, as if its owner was only able to breathe from one nostril, but its nails-on-chalkboard effect was unmistakable. Forcing a grin, Garren set his coffee down as he turned around to greet the newcomer.

The young lady standing before him had not aged a day since he had last seen her, some seven years ago. Her mousy brown hair, always pulled into a tight bun atop her round head as he recalled, was tucked loosely beneath a black knitted baseball cap, and her long legs were accentuated by a short black pencil skirt and black stiletto-heeled pumps. A thick gold watch adorned her left wrist, matching the golden buttons on her black blazer, and she had painted on bright red lipstick and a mocha-brown eyeshadow that did surprisingly little to help her brown eyes stand out. "Cassandra Pierce," Garren said as he looked her up and down. "Good to see that your sense of style hasn't changed."

Cassandra, in turn, glanced at his appearance with a content smirk. "And I'm glad to see that yours has stepped up! T-shirts and ripped jeans never did suit your figure, sweetie."

"What can I say? I was young." Garren brushed a palm along the front of his dark blue blazer as he nodded to the empty seat across from him. "Care to join me?" He motioned for the waitress as Cassandra grinned and slipped into the chair. "So, how's business been?"

Cassandra thanked the plump woman as she poured some cream into her coffee cup before leaving to attend to her other patrons. "It's been busy," she replied as she stirred in a few packets of sugar. "Management's been having us push pretty hard lately, but it keeps me on my toes." Garren wrinkled his nose in disgust as she took a small sip of the milky sweetness. "In fact," she continued as she set down her cup and leaned forward, "the Syndicate's looking to expand their reach even further in Kalos. And there's talk that they might move me up to help supervise the expansion!"

"So you finally learned to sell the product instead of snort it." Garren smirked as Cassandra shot him a glare that would turn any other man to stone. "And it only took seven years. I guess miracles do exist."

"We were all naive little Shades once, _Garren."_ Cassandra relaxed her brow as she eased back into her chair. "I seem to recall a certain someone who ingested just as much Black Dust as me, back in the day. And look at him now." Her red lips curled into a devilish grin as she raised the coffee cup to her mouth. "That reminds me," she started, pointing to the three faint scars that lined the side of his face—a gift from Rhodette Harker for a job well done. "How're your collections coming along these days?"

The scowl returned to Garren's face as he turned his attention back to the window. Everyone knew of his plight, it seemed. In truth, he had not had another Reaping in quite some time. It had been a hard climb for him after the Harker boy had escaped. After they had punished him accordingly, they exiled him to the Johto region where he was allowed to perform menial tasks under strict supervision—Rolan, he had learned, had been reassigned. Garren had not felt the exhilarating rush of taking a life in over two years, and that emptiness hurt him more than anything. Retribution for his mistake had come at a high price, but he has since paid his dues.

"Debts are being paid," he said after awhile. His knee had begun to throb again, a constant reminder of his learning experience as a fledgling Reaper and of the consequences that followed with one wrong step. "What difference does it make if I'm the one collecting or not?"

"Did the little Reaper lose his scythe?" A voiced interrupted, drawing Garren's attention back to the cafe's interior. A slender youth in a black-and-yellow blazer with dark hair and olive skin stood just behind where Cassandra was seated. He flashed Garren a grin, a gleam alighting his green eyes that the Reaper found unsettling. "Pity, you could've used it for a crutch."

Cassandra raised a brow, curious, as she tilted her head in the stranger's direction. "I'm sorry, and you are?" There was an edge of annoyance in her tone that made Garren smirk. Classic Cassandra.

The boy glanced at her, his grin faltering at her nasally voice, and shrugged. "I'm no one of consequence."

This answer did not seem to satisfy Cassandra. If she had fur, Garren was certain that her hackles would be raised. "When you butt in on a private conversation," she hissed, her nostrils flaring, "it _becomes_ of consequence."

"Cassandra, please!" Garren quipped, his eyes never leaving the boy. "We're all family, here." He then motioned to the last empty seat at their table. "Sit. Chat with us awhile."

The youth nodded and slid into the chair. "At least the Reaper hasn't forgotten his courtesies." Cassandra fumed, but to her credit she remained silent. "Now," he began as he waved the waitress off and folded his lanky arms across the table. "I believe we were discussing debts?"

Garren hesitated, slowly sipping his coffee as he studied the boy. He was a young lad, no more than seventeen, yet he carried himself in a worldly manner as one who has seen and done many a terrible thing. He would have to be cautious with this one, at least until he knew more about his intentions. "And what do you know of debts, boy?"

The kid adopted a look of mock pain, furrowing his brow in an overly dramatic effect. "You wound me, Mr. Reed!" He grinned at Garren's perplexed look as he continued. "I know plenty about debts, especially"—he winked at the Reaper, sending a cold chill up his spine—"when it involves the Harker boy."

Cassandra leaned back and sipped at her coffee, smirking as she glanced between the two. She always did enjoy a good show, and though she did have to hand it to Garren for keeping his composure, watching him squirm was such a sweet sight for her.

Garren cleared his throat, setting his coffee down and staring squarely at the boy. This kid knew his name, he knew his rank, and he knew the name of the person responsible for his ruination—details that were privy only to a select few, and details this youth should not have known. This unnerved Garren tremendously. "Who are you?"

The boy flicked a strand of hair out of his eyes with a finger, returning Garren's glare with a chilling grin. "Some people call me Klaüs, but I prefer to go by Jailer. It sounds more imposing, don't you think?"

Cassandra nearly spewed out her coffee as she turned to look at the boy, her eyes wide with disbelief. _"You're_ a Hunter?"

"Ssh." Klaüs pressed a thin finger to his lips, shooting her a quick wink. "You'll blow my cover."

"What are you doing here?" Garren demanded, his eyes scanning the nearly empty cafe. There were only five people who occupied the rank of Hunter, and for good reason. Being a Hunter meant unwavering commitment in tracking their targets. Whereas the role of Reaper called for assassinating your target on the spot and essentially collecting their debt, Hunters would sometimes observe their prey for years without interfering. They took their orders directly from Mr. Shadow, and as a result their marks were far from ordinary.

Klaüs gave him a pointed look. "I'm cleaning up your mess."

"The boy was my—!" Garren took a deep, calming breath and narrowed his eyes. "Why wasn't I told?"

Klaüs _tsk_ed and waggled a finger. "You had your chance. The boy is no concern to you now, and I suggest you leave it at that." There was an underlying threat to the boy's soft tone that implied what Garren had already come to assume: he had royally fucked up, and Klaüs was here to make certain that he stayed out of the mess he created. Hunters were infamous among the Syndicate for not only covering their tracks, but for burying any loose ends that turned up as well.

"What's the big deal about this Harker kid, anyway?" Cassandra piped up, leaning forward with sudden interest. "I mean, he's just a little shit. What's he need a babysitter for?"

Klaüs leaned back, brushing a lock of hair aside as he glanced at Cassandra. "Mr. Shadow has big plans for the lad. Apparently, they share some sort of history." He turned his gaze back to Garren, the corner of his lips curling back into that sinister grin. "And that's all you need to know."

Garren studied the Hunter, weighing his words carefully. "His life was marked for collection five years ago," he explained. "Why now is there a history that makes him so untouchable?"

Klaüs pushed himself to his feet. "I didn't say he was untouchable," he said as he slipped a hand into his pants pocket. "But it does make things interesting, don't you think?" He shot Cassandra another wink as he tossed a few wrinkled bills onto the table. "Coffee's on me this time. Enjoy your stay."

Garren watched the boy leave before cursing under his breath. "A fucking _Hunter_!"

Cassandra turned her attention back to Garren. "OK. I knew you fucked up your first Reaping, sweetie, but I didn't realize how bad it actually was!" She gestured toward the front of the cafe. "They put Jailer on that kid!_ Jailer_! Do you know how seriously _twisted_ that guy is?"

"I've heard the rumors." Garren pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled. With Klaüs tailing that boy, there was no way that he could ever get close to him. This was not supposed to happen!

"What are you doing in Kalos, anyway?" Cassandra inquired. Last she had heard, they had her old friend licking their boots all the way in Johto. The Reaper lifted his gaze for a moment, and realization dawned on her. "Oh no," she whispered. "Garren, no. That boy belongs to Mr. Shadow now. He has his dogs following that kid around! You'll never get close enough to—"

"I _embarrassed_ myself, Cassandra!" Garren snapped, whirling his head around so that his gaze bore into her. "They broke my knee, and that still wasn't enough! I'm the laughingstock of the entire organization!" He slammed his fist down on the table, the empty coffee cups clinking against the plates in the wake of his fury. Cassandra frowned, running a hand nervously along her arm. "A debt is still owed," he hissed. "And by right it's mine to collect!"

"Is there a problem over here?"

Garren looked up to see a young woman standing over their table, both hands on her hips and a displeased scowl twisting her lips. She was clad in an officer's uniform, her green hair pulled back into a loose bun, and there was a familiar air about her. "No, officer," Cassandra replied, tossing Garren a quick glance. "Everything's fine here."

"Hey Jenny, your coffee's ready!"

The officer glanced to the counter up front, where a husky man in a white apron was standing, and waved. When she turned back to their table, there was a brief moment of hesitation, as if seeing the ghost of someone she had long since forgotten, but it was only a fleeting thought and with a shake of her head she bid them a good day and walked off.

Garren watched Officer Jenny for some time before leaning in to Cassandra, his lips twisting in a knowing smirk. He had heard of an officer taking in the boy after the train station incident; this could very well work in his favor. "I think I know a way to get to the boy."

Cassandra raised an eyebrow, curiosity overtaking her once more. "Is it dirty?"

Garren nodded. "When you can't get to your quarry," he explained as he massaged his aching knee, "force your quarry to come to you."

Cassandra smirked, her eyes flaring with excitement. She had to admit, despite all the rumors she had heard over the years, Garren had turned into a pretty twisted soul himself. And it was about time things started to get interesting around here. "What about Jailer?"

Garren scoffed. "I can handle that little pissant. I've run across his kind before, the dog's nothing but bark." His eyes darkened as he leaned back. "But a debt owed is a debt paid. As long as the Harker boy's dues are collected, Mr. Shadow doesn't need to know about our involvement." Redemption, after all, was bittersweet.

As a Shade, Cassandra rarely found an opportunity for anything other than pushing the Syndicate's trademark product. But, she observed with a laugh as they stood up to take their leave, it looked as if the fun around here was only just beginning.


	10. Chapter Five

**Author's Note:** Thank you everyone for your continued interest in Zayn's adventure! Your excitement helps propel this story forward! Also, I'm still accepting OCs for minor characters and a few for the Syndicate, if anyone else is interested in participating in this journey.

**Shout-Outs:** Thank you _pain1516_ for your amazing review! I hope you continue to enjoy the journey!

* * *

_Chapter Five: Know Thy Enemy  
_

It was late in the evening by the time they made it to Santalune City. Zayn slowed to a leisurely walk, allowing the group he was traveling with to pull ahead as he surveyed the quiet city.

The street lights flickered to life, casting a soft glow over the cobblestone streets as people strolled between the buildings, laughing and talking amongst themselves as they absorbed the crisp night air. In the center of town, surrounded by well-manicured hedges and a beautifully maintained flower garden, was a two-tier white-bricked water fountain. It seemed peaceful here, and served as a reminder to him that he was far from home.

Ghost nudged Zayn's leg, whimpering as he glanced up at his trainer. It had been a long, hard trek as they maneuvered through the woods at the group's pace, which was slow-going enough. At one point they had gotten lost, and it had taken three hours of bickering between the hot-headed Iona and the stubbornly energetic Harry before finally they found their way to the city's edge. Tempers were short, even for him, as they entered the Santalune City Pokemon Center.

The motion-sensitive interior lights blinked to life, illuminating the vacant lobby as they filed in. Zayn was the last to walk inside, the door _whoosh_ing shut behind him as he shrugged the knapsack off his shoulders with a grunt—it had been a long trek, indeed. A low hum vibrated in the air as the calming tones of classical music emanated through several wall-mounted speakers, and Zayn felt relieved as some of his stress from the day's travel dissipated. With a sigh, he propped his bag against the nearest couch and sank himself into the cushion. It wasn't as soft as he would have liked, but it sure beat walking all day, and he was too tired to complain.

"Welcome to the Pokemon Center!" A tall lady with a kind face and wide loops in her pink hair greeted them, a little too loudly, stifling a yawn as she emerged from a hidden room behind the counter in the center of the lobby. "How can I help?"

A large, fluffy pink Pokemon with bright green eyes and a white nurse's hat wobbled next to her, grinning sleepily as it chirped, "Wigglytuff!"

Harry stepped towards the counter, holding out a Pokeball as he pushed himself up on the tips of his toes to help him see over the edge. "Nurse"—he squinted at the nametag dangling from the collar of her wrinkled pink-and-white uniform—"Joy, can you heal my Rook?" He pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose as he adjusted the straps to his backpack. "He got injured in battle."

The nurse nodded, taking his Pokeball and gingerly handing it to her assistant. The Wigglytuff shuffled to the back of the clinic, singing to itself as it disappeared behind a swinging door. Nurse Joy smiled as she turned back to the group, but even from his seat Zayn could see the exhaustion that lined her face. "Now, does anyone else need their Pokemon checked for the night?"

The giant with long limbs and shaggy brown hair, Jared, stepped forward, his movements slow and awkward as he unclipped a Pokeball from his belt. "My Charmander," he said as he placed his starter on the counter. The nurse nodded and placed the ball on a slotted tray.

As the other members of the group each stepped forward to place their Pokemon on the tray, Zayn glanced down at the Houndour by his feet. "You should probably get checked, too." Ghost cocked his head to one side and whined.

Before Zayn could respond, Morgen walked over to where he sat and flopped down on the couch. "Aren't you gonna get your team checked?" She asked as she leaned forward to scratch Ghost between the ears. The Houndour's leg started to thump against the tiled floor, and Zayn felt a tinge of jealousy at how comfortable his partner had become with the older girl in just a short span of time.

"Ghost doesn't like strangers," Zayn muttered, though his Houndour was making it hard for even him to believe those words as he rolled over and exposed his underside to Morgen's hand.

"He has to get used to them sometime, Harker." The blond giggled, cooing at the Pokemon as she rubbed his belly. "Yes he does! Yes he _does_!"

It was just too much.

"But a checkup wouldn't hurt." Standing up to stretch, Zayn motioned for Ghost to follow as he walked up to the counter. Nurse Joy smiled at him as he unclipped Squirtle's ball and placed it on the tray. "I have two," he stated, pointing down at the reluctant Houndour. The nurse nodded and, picking up the tray full of Pokeballs, made her way to the back. Ghost hesitantly followed, shooting Zayn one last glance before disappearing behind the swinging door.

"Well!" Harry exclaimed, breaking the silence that had fallen over the Pokemon Center as he clasped his hands behind his head. "Guess now we just gotta wait."

The redhead, Iona, rubbed at her eyes as she lowered her aching body into one of the few chairs in the lobby. "Harry," she started, untying the blue bandana from around her head and letting her wavy locks curl over her shoulders. She turned and gave the young boy a pointed look before muttering, "Shut up."

A few of the others chuckled as Harry stuck out his tongue, but Zayn sighed and shook his head. There was still some animosity between the two from their heated argument earlier in the day, it seemed. Conflict did not sit well with him, especially this late into the night. _Why did I agree to this again?_

Jared cleared his throat, drawing the group's attention as he gestured to the other side of the clinic. "I'm gonna call my parents real quick," he declared, pointing out the phone booths lined up along the far right wall. "The service is free, in case anyone else wanted to call their folks." His voice was deep and hollow, booming from the depths of his chest like a drill sergeant calling out commands to his troops. Between his voice and his height, it was no small wonder why the group had nicknamed him the Giant.

Morgen pushed herself up from her seat on the couch and stretched. "Guess I should call my 'rents, too." She yawned as she made her way over to the phone booths. Iona and Harry followed soon after, elbowing each other out of the way as they fought to be the first one there.

With all of the phones currently in use and his legs growing weary from standing, Zayn bit back a yawn and walked back to the couch. Even if he did attempt to call Jenny tonight, chances were that she was already asleep. _I'll try tomorrow_, he reasoned as he sat back down. She knew that he could take care of himself, and she had Manny there to keep her company while he was away. Besides, he was far too tired to try and hold a meaningful conversation with anyone at the moment. _She'll understand_.

"Don't you have anyone to call?" A voice whispered, pulling Zayn away from his thoughts as he glanced up. Angel stood over him, her dark brown eyes inquisitive as she looked him up and down. She had loosened her pigtails some time ago, her crimson hair sweeping midway down her back like a small cape.

Zayn shook his head and pointed to the phone booths. "Everyone's using the phones right now."

"That's not what I asked." Angel sat down on the arm of the couch and crossed her legs, her eyes never leaving his gaze. "Don't you have any parents?"

Zayn had not expected that question to hurt as much as it did. His chest tightened, as if his lungs were slowly filling with lead, and he had to clench his fists to help fight off the tears that welled in his eyes as the memories he had tried for nearly five years to suppress came flooding back in waves. He remembered his father's growing aggression towards his family; his mother, submissive to the physical manifestation of that man's anger; his father suddenly abandoning them, without so much as a word; his mother's brief depression as she struggled to cope with the loss; he and his mother, together, traveling the world and the joy he had felt at their new-found freedom; he, begging his mother to go to the beach before leaving for the Hoenn region; his mother, murdered in cold blood right before his eyes in the very train station she had wanted to avoid. The memories assaulted his mind like a hurricane, and for awhile he thought that he would drown in the murky waters of his grief.

A few moments had lapsed before Zayn realized that her question remained unanswered. Taking a quick breath, willing the memories back into the depths of his subconscious, he dabbed at his eyes with a knuckle and glanced up. "She's asleep," he muttered before he could even stop to think of a proper response. His eyes widened at the slip. Had he meant to say that?

Angel raised a curious brow, though whether at his delayed response or at his reaction to her question Zayn could not say. "Your mother?"

"My sister." Officer Jenny would never be his mother, but she was as damn good a sister as anyone he could think of. Surely that counted for something.

Before Angel could reply, Nurse Joy emerged from the back with a huff. "Your Pokemon are all ready to go!" Her smile faltered as she smoothed the wrinkles from her uniform and placed the silver tray filled with Pokeballs down on the counter. Her Wigglytuff bounced behind her, the white nurse's hat askew on its head and the Pokeball Harry had handed them clutched firmly between its fingerless hands.

Taking the interruption as a blessing, Zayn got up and made his way to the counter. As he picked up Squirtle's Pokeball, Nurse Joy gave him a pointed look. "Are you the kid with the Houndour?"

"Y-yes?" Zayn stammered, taken aback by her appearance. She looked winded, her hair tousled and her uniform bunched up in places it shouldn't have been, as if she had been wrestling with a Tauros for the last half-hour and lost.

Nurse Joy crossed her arms as she motioned to the Wigglytuff next to her. "We had to restrain him," she explained as the fluffy pink Pokemon disappeared once again into the back.

Zayn's eyes widened in disbelief. "What?" He exclaimed, drawing all eyes towards himself as he slammed the palm of his hands on the counter and glared past the nurse. He could feel his anger rising as he envisioned Ghost locked up all alone in the back, whimpering, scared and confused. "Why did you do that? You better not have hurt him!"

"Hey, Zayn—" Jared started, placing a hand on his shoulder, but despite his bigger size Zayn shoved him off. This was supposed to be a place of security and relaxation, and they _lock up_ his partner? Where was the compassion in that?!

"Kid, relax." Nurse Joy said, forcing her tone to remain calm as she distributed the last of the Pokeballs. "He's fine, trust me. He just got a little out of hand during the exam is all."

An excited bark drew his attention away from the nurse. Bounding through the swinging doors like a bat out of Hell, thick nails clicking on the tiled floor in rhythm to his yaps, Ghost ran around the counter and slid to a halt at Zayn's feet. The Houndour barked as he jumped up and nuzzled Zayn's outstretched hand, and the boy could only laugh as he scratched his pup behind the ear. He was fine; the Houndour was happy and unharmed, just as the nurse promised.

Guilt for his outburst filling his chest, Zayn looked up at Nurse Joy. "I'm sorry, nurse. I was just—"

Nurse Joy shook her head. "Don't apologize." She sighed, allowing a small smile to grace her chapped lips. "You care deeply for your friend, I get that. He's hardly the first Pokemon to be nervous and uncooperative." Her brow then furrowed as she glanced down at Ghost. "But that scar across his back, it isn't recent. And he was a little dehydrated." She pursed her lips as Wigglytuff shuffled behind the counter. "Your Houndour is unusually large for his breed, but other than the dehydration he's in remarkable health."

"Thank you." Zayn nodded, rubbing Ghost's ear. "He's been with me a long time." Ghost looked up at his trainer, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he showed off his best toothy grin.

Iona cleared her throat, gathering everyone's attention as she stretched her arms up above her head. "Well, now that everyone's all healed up," she started, picking up her duffel bag and slinging it over one shoulder. "Where do we crash for the night?"

Nurse Joy turned her gaze to the redhead and sighed. "I figured you kids were new trainers." She gestured to Wigglytuff, who chirped and sauntered to the other side of the clinic and up a flight of stairs. "Wigglytuff will get the rooms ready. You're lucky we have the space; usually in the summer, we're all booked up."

"Fail starters," Harry whispered as he pocketed his Pokeball.

Whether Nurse Joy had heard him or not, she made no mention of it as she bent down and picked up a box. "Now!" She exclaimed, digging through its contents and laying them out on the countertop. "As new trainers in Kalos, I presume you will all be taking the gym challenge?"

A chorus of yeses and bobbing heads replied back, and Nurse Joy nodded in approval. "Good. You will all be needing these badge cases, then." She held up one of the items from the box: a long, thin black case with the Kalos Pokemon League's symbol emblazoned on the lid.

Everyone began to crowd around the counter, their excitement bubbling to the surface as they each accepted their own case in turn. They were made of a smooth, durable metal, the inside lined with a soft red velvet and divided into eight cushioned slots. Even though it was light, Zayn could feel the weight of its importance as he tucked the case into his pants pocket. After everything that's happened on just his first day, it all still felt so surreal to him.

"You will also be excited to know," Nurse Joy continued, once again gaining everyone's attention, "that the first gym is local, and it opens its doors right at ten." She then plopped a clipboard down on the counter with a loud _clink_. "Only three trainers are allowed to compete in one day, as per League regulations—"

"What d'ya mean only three?" Iona spoke up, tucking her hair behind an ear as she elbowed her way to the front. "I've seen these things on TV, the battles aren't long! How's that fair?"

Nurse Joy sighed. "Look, young lady," she explained, tapping a pen against the clipboard. "I don't make the rules. I just follow them. Besides, between each battle the gym leader must bring their Pokemon in here to rest up before the next challenger, otherwise it wouldn't be a fair fight. And proper healing takes time. These battles can be intense, and not just for the challengers."

Iona stepped back, and Zayn could hear Morgen whisper—"Ease up, Pepper!"—from behind him. To his left, Angel stepped forward and glanced at the clipboard. "So what're the times?"

Nurse Joy handed her the pen that she had been thumping against the counter. "There are two separate days that you can sign up for, since there are six of you. The first day is tomorrow, with the openings scheduled for 10 a.m., 2 p.m. and 6 p.m. The second day of challenges will be the day after tomorrow, with openings scheduled at those same times."

From the back of the group, Iona shook her head. "So if I'm gonna battle last, I'd have to wait _three whole days_?"

"The twenty-four hour gap between the first group of challengers and the next group allows for rematches the following day, should any trainer lose on their scheduled date and request a second chance." Angel explained, and Nurse Joy nodded in agreement.

"Well, Rook and I don't plan on losing!" Harry piped up, but Iona was far from convinced.

"This is ridiculous!"

"These are the rules set by the _International_ Pokemon League Organization." Nurse Joy crossed her arms as Angel signed the sheet of paper attached to the clipboard. "If you refuse to comply, there are plenty of other options available to you outside of the gym challenge."

"Great," Iona huffed. "So I'm stuck here in this small-ass town for the next four days."

"No one's forcing you to stay, Pepper." Jared spoke up as he took the pen from Angel and signed the clipboard.

Iona rolled her eyes, but argued no further as she waited for the Giant to hand her the pen.

"I think it'll be a good thing," Morgen stated as she took the pen from Harry. "One silly little battle and then rest and relaxation before another long trek to the next town." She handed Zayn the pen and walked back to where she had left her bag. "Necia and I could use the time to bond more, trainer to Pokemon!" She smiled as she patted the Pokeball strapped to her belt.

With a sigh, Zayn pulled the clipboard closer and looked at the last remaining slot: day two at 6 p.m., four hours after Angel's match. He glanced down at Ghost before signing his name in the time block. _Maybe going last won't be so bad_, he thought as he handed Nurse Joy the pen and stepped back. _I can watch everyone else battle and study the gym leader's fighting style. It'll be good learning for the both of us_.

Nurse Joy read over the clipboard and nodded her approval. "OK, great. I'll send this in to Viola right now so she can prepare the gym for your upcoming battles."

"Wiggly!" The fluffy pink Pokemon exclaimed as it bounced down the stairs, drawing Nurse Joy's gaze. "Tuff, tuff!"

With a sigh of relief, Nurse Joy cleared her throat. "Wigglytuff has just finished preparing your rooms for the night. If you would all grab your bags and follow him up the stairs, he'll help you settle in. And _finally_ we can all get some good rest around here." The last sentence was meant as a whisper, but Zayn was still close enough to hear the annoyance in her tone. It had been a long day for her, too, it seemed.

Motioning to Ghost, Zayn picked up his knapsack and joined the rest of the group as they trekked up the stairs. Iona was still fuming about the League's gym regulations, while Morgen and Jared discussed their tactics for the impending battle. Zayn listened idly to their conversations as they mounted the top of the stairs, where Wigglytuff was waiting with their six room keys.

"Wigglytuff!" It chirped, handing out the electronic cards and pointing each young trainer in the direction of their room. "Tuff!" The Pokemon quipped, patting Zayn on the arm as he gestured to the end of the hall.

"Let's all get some sleep tonight." Morgen yawned, stretching as she opened her door and slung her bag inside the dark room. "We've got a long four days ahead of us."

Harry pumped his fist in the air, pushing the glasses back up his nose as he laughed. "Rest up if you want, I'll show you all how a real trainer battles tomorrow!"

Iona rolled her eyes. "Whatever," she huffed as she threw open her door and slammed it shut behind her. Standing in the open doorway next to the fuming redhead's room, Angel shook her head and disappeared into the darkness.

"Well aren't we a cheery bunch," Zayn muttered. Ghost whined and scratched at the door to their room, anxious to get inside.

"Hey, uh, Harker." Zayn looked up just as Jared poked his head out from the depths of his room. "You fight tomorrow?"

Before he had signed up for the last time slot, Zayn was able to get a good look at the roster. He may have been the last, but Jared was the first one to battle the gym leader tomorrow morning. If he recalled the leaders in the Kalos gym circuit, their first match was against the bug-type specialist, Viola. And if he was correct, then the Giant had nothing to worry about.

Zayn shook his head, opening the door and letting Ghost pad inside. "I'm the last one."

"Oh. Well, maybe we can, um," Jared scratched his head as he took care with choosing his words. "Maybe we can compare notes or something?"

Zayn flipped on the lights and tossed his knapsack onto the bed. "Notes?"

"F-for the battle."

_He wants to compare strategies_? Zayn rubbed at his eyes, the exhaustion from the day weighing heavily on his shoulders. _It's too late for this shit_. "You wanna do this now?"

Jared glanced left, then right. "Morgen told me you used to street battle back in Lumiose," he whispered. There was an unnerving excitement in his voice that sapped up any energy Zayn had left in his body.

"So you want _pointers_?"

Jared shook his head, chuckling. "No, nothing like that!" He fiddled with the Charizard pendant dangling around his neck, his eyes boring holes into Zayn. "I wanna make a bet."

He was not expecting that. "A bet?"

"You know, some friendly competition. Something I know you'll enjoy." A small grin crept across Jared's face as an eager glint flickered in his eyes. "I bet you two hundred dollars that you can't beat Viola—"

It was Zayn's turn to laugh as he glanced at his Houndour behind him. Already the pup was curled up in the middle of the twin-sized bed, stubby tail wagging as he waited for his trainer to sleep. "You're kidding, right?" Before he had left, Jenny had given him five hundred dollars for supplies in case he needed some things before he started winning battles. But Viola was a bug trainer, with prize money to be won on top of the first gym badge, and Ghost was part fire. _Easy money_. "Alright, you have a—"

"—with Squirtle."

"—deal!"

Jared's grin widened as he bade Zayn goodnight and slowly closed his bedroom door, allowing his words and their bet to finally sink in.

Zayn silently cursed as he closed the door, his exhaustion forgotten in light of what had just transpired. "What the Hell just happened?" He hissed, kicking off his shoes as he changed for bed. He had unwittingly agreed to take on Viola with Squirtle, a Pokemon he had no experience with in battle—or even out of battle, as a matter of fact—and in the spirit of betting he had also agreed to put two hundred dollars on the line!

He glanced at Ghost, patting the Houndour as he walked over to the door. "That Jared kid is good," he muttered, flipping off the lights and crawling into the bed. He had three days to work with Squirtle; three days to get her battle-ready. OK, that was doable—if he was fighting a roadside trainer, or Harry. But he wasn't fighting just any trainer. He was fighting Viola, the first gym leader in the gym challenge circuit and light-years ahead of any street brawl he had ever participated in.

Not for the first time in his life, Zayn felt completely in over his head. _Shit_.


	11. Chapter Six

**Author's Note:** So in the course of writing this chapter, it didn't take me long to realize that putting three battles in _on top of_ the amount of description I give would push the word count higher than what I've been trying to keep it at (around the 4k mark). I've never really liked jumping straight into action because I feel that it takes away from the main focus of the story: the characters and their triumphs/struggles/development/whatever. So for future gym battles—since I pretty much put in the "three per day" rule and would like to stick to that as I think it adds to the realism—I expect they will be longer-than-normal chapters, or at least broken up into parts. I know some of you were hoping for longer chapters anyway so in light of this, wish (somewhat) granted! :)

**Shout-Outs:** Thank you _Kuranui_ for your review! I'm so glad you're enjoying the story, and I hope you continue to do so as the journey continues!

* * *

_Chapter Six: A Buggin' Showdown, Part One_

For the second night in a row since he had started his journey, Zayn barely slept at all. The mattress beneath him was stiff and the room a little stuffy, but those minor inconveniences were not the reason he lay wide awake so early in the morning, staring with narrowed eyes at the ceiling as sunlight trickled in through small cracks in the blinds. His mind was still reeling from the impromptu bet he had made with Jared the Giant.

_It wasn't even fair_, he thought bitterly as he tucked his hands behind his head, a scowl tugging at the corner of his lips. It was not a question of money but a matter of principle for him; he had been tricked into making that bet. Had he and Squirtle been given adequate time to train, it wouldn't have been a problem. But he was not about to back down. He had given his word, after all, despite the quick drop that the older kid had unexpectedly laid on him. No, he would have to somehow make it work.

Zayn sighed and glanced down at Ghost. The Houndour was passed out on the edge of the bed, his muzzle wrinkling into a snarl and his paws twitching and kicking as he chased some poor Bunnelby across the fields of his dreamscape.

"At least you got to sleep," Zayn muttered, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes. If he wasn't going to go back to bed, then he might as well get up. He had so much that he needed to do, and very little time to do it in. It was going to be a long three days. . .

A low gurgle rumbled in his stomach, rousing a startled Ghost from his slumber as it echoed throughout the small room. His brow furrowing, Zayn placed a hand on his belly and sighed. They had all skipped dinner last night in favor of going to bed and resting their tired bones, but he hadn't realized exactly how hungry he was until now.

Scratching his head, Zayn threw the thin sheet off of him and climbed out of bed, the mattress creaking as it adjusted to the loss of weight. As he pulled some clothes together and dressed for the day, his mind raced with the quick training tips he had seen televised over the years on the Pokemon Trainer's Educational Network and his stomach growled as it demanded its breakfast.

The lobby of the Pokemon Center was a bit busier than he remembered as Zayn stumbled down the stairs, Ghost trotting along beside him. There were a few locals gathered around the phone booths, young kids laughing and waving to their friend on the screen as they kept one another up to date on the goings-on of the world, and an elderly couple embraced each other on the couch as they anxiously awaited for the nurse to return with their sick Pokemon's diagnosis.

"Good, you're awake." A thick, gritty voice rumbled from behind.

Zayn turned around as a tall, broad-shouldered woman with close-cropped fiery red hair and a flat nose emerged from the nurse's station. She was garbed in a pink-and-white nurse's uniform similar to the one Nurse Joy had donned last night, though it did little to flatter her figure, and accompanied by one of the clinic's Wigglytuffs.

Taken aback, Zayn looked down at Ghost and then pointed to himself. "Me?"

With a brisk nod, the nurse picked up a clipboard and motioned to him. "Here," she muttered as Zayn approached the counter, becoming all too aware of the hairy mole that dotted her chin as he grew nearer. "Nurse Joy forgot signature." Her accent was foreign, the words grating against his ear as if her throat was heavy with phlegm, and her breath reeked of tobacco and coffee. She jabbed a thumb at her chest and smirked. "But Gayla always remembers signature!"

"Signature?" Zayn echoed, struggling to piece together her broken sentence as he glanced down at the clipboard on the counter.

The nurse, Gayla, placed an elbow on the counter and stared at him pointedly. "Signature," she repeated, emphasizing the word as she tapped one long red nail against the clipboard. "For room upstairs. Need signature so we know how many and how long."

Zayn hesitantly took the pen and signed his name next to the room number he was assigned. "I won't be charged for this, right?" He inquired as he marked down the number of nights he would be staying in that room. It was widely known that the Pokemon Centers around the world provided their rooms to traveling trainers free of charge, and some even offered their road-weary guests breakfast in the mornings.

Nurse Gayla shrugged. "League pays us to house little trainers. League does not pay for furnishings. We keep tabs on items in room." She removed the clipboard from the counter and pointed an accusatory sausage-of-a-finger at him. "You steal from Gayla, little trainer, you pay."

"I won't steal anything," Zayn promised as his stomach grumbled again, reminding him of his hunger. He looked up at the nurse and sighed. "Did I miss breakfast?" Surely it was still early enough for the kitchen to whip him up something.

The nurse shook her head, diminishing his hopes with a wave. "No breakfast here. Too busy." She gestured dismissively to the clinic's entrance as she resumed her seat behind the counter, the fluffy Wigglytuff bouncing behind her. "Try cafe. Good crumpets there."

He remembered seeing the cafe last night, when they had finally made it to Santalune City; it was a quaint little building, nestled on a ridge at the city's edge that overlooked the water fountain in the heart of town. Muttering a quick thank-you, Zayn motioned to Ghost and together they walked out the door and into the crisp morning air. As he strolled across the quiet cobblestone streets and up a small hill, he caught a whiff of the delectable treats hidden behind the cafe's ornate wooden door and his mouth began to water in anticipation. "It might not be free," he explained as he opened the door and allowed Ghost to saunter in ahead of him, "but it's breakfast."

The Houndour grunted happily, his stubby tail wagging as they sat down in a corner booth and prepared to satiate their growing hunger.

{{{{-]-]-]-]-][-][-[-[-[-[-}}}}

With their bellies full of scrambled Ducklett eggs and sweetened Gogoat milk, Zayn and Ghost returned to the Pokemon Center with lifted spirits. It was already half past nine, and he was more than sure that Officer Jenny was awake and waiting for his call.

"Hey, Harker!"

Zayn turned just as Ghost trotted across the clinic, greeting Morgen with an excited yap and an affectionate lick to her hand. Laughing, the blond knelt down to stroke his metal-plated back.

"What?" Zayn inquired with a huff, crossing his arms as he propped himself against the nurse's counter. He was still uncomfortable with how close Ghost was growing to the older girl, but he dared not let it show.

Morgen gave the Houndour one last pat and stood up, stretching. "You gonna come watch Jared's match with us?"

He glanced at the ticking clock hanging on the wall above Nurse Gayla's lowered head and sighed. He wanted to call Jenny and let her know that he was OK, but he also wanted to watch Jared fight and the gym was on the other side of town. He still needed to work with Squirtle later on today, too, and that alone was going to take a lot out of him. _There just isn't enough time in the day. . ._

After a few moments of silence Zayn finally nodded and, with one last look at the vacant phone booths behind him, followed Morgen out the door and back into the morning.

As the time neared ten o'clock, the streets were slowly coming to life as the residents of Santalune City stirred from their homes and wandered into the bright new day. Zayn had to maneuver carefully around a group of young kids playing a game of hopscotch with a variety of young Pokemon near the city's water fountain as he followed Morgen around a curve and up another small hill.

"Are you nervous?" Morgen asked as she sidestepped to avoid colliding with an elderly woman carrying an armful of grocery bags.

Zayn glanced at her as he turned her question over in his mind. What would constitute as being nervous for him? Sweaty palms? Butterflies in his stomach? He had been happy before, and angry, and he knew all too well what fear felt like. But had he ever really been nervous?

"I-I guess," he muttered after careful consideration. Perhaps he was nervous, if being nervous was in any way similar to being worried about how Squirtle would perform the day after tomorrow.

Morgen nodded her approval. "Yeah, me too. This'll be my first battle." She smirked as she cast Zayn a sidelong glance. "Not all of us were able to cheat before starting our journeys."

"Good, you made it!"

Zayn looked up to see Iona waving at them. Ghost barked in excitement, his tail wagging as they grew closer. As they reached the top of the hill, Zayn's gaze lingered on the group for a moment before finally resting on the building that towered behind them.

It was larger than he had expected; standing at about three stories high, it was just as tall as the many different trees surrounding the outside—and just as green. Every brick that framed the structure had been painted a deep green, and pale green solar panels formed the building's roof. The more he stared at the so-called gym, the more Zayn became convinced that it was actually a greenhouse. If it were not for the symbol of the Bug Badge that had been painted on the face of the front archway, it would have been hard to tell the difference.

"So is the Giant ready to battle?" Morgen giggled as she stepped forward, slapping Jared playfully on the shoulder as she joined the group beneath the archway.

"Ready as we'll ever be," he replied, rubbing his arm as he glanced down at his partner. Charmander was standing by his side, the flame on its tail blazing brightly and a look of calm determination glistening in the orange salamander's blue eyes. Jared grinned at this, pleased with his Pokemon's desire. "I know we can do it!"

Harry paced back and forth between the group and the gym, anxious to step inside. "Where's the leader?" He exclaimed after awhile, walking up and giving a sharp, impatient rap on the front door. "It's already ten! What could be taking so long?"

Iona huffed and rolled her eyes. "Shouting and banging aren't gonna make her open the doors any sooner," she explained as she tightened the blue bandana on her head. "Geez, grow up."

Harry whirled on her, his hands balled into fists. "You're just jealous because you know I'm better than you!" He accused with a smirk, laughing as Iona's cheeks reddened. "See? I'm right!"

As the two continued to argue, Angel shook her head and leaned closer to Zayn. "Those two are embarrassing," she confessed as Iona made some sort of gesture with her hand, to which Harry replied in kind with his own gesture.

Zayn scratched the back of his head and sighed. "Are they gonna be like this the whole time?"

Angel shrugged. "If they are, at least we won't have to worry about any wild Pokemon attacks. They're obnoxious fighting is a natural repellant."

A soft _click_ drew the group's attention, and even managed to put Harry and Iona's argument on hold.

"Hm." The newcomer, a tall woman with bright green eyes and a bob of unruly blond hair, pondered as she examined the photo she had taken on her camera screen. "The redhead's a little blurry," she mumbled to herself, and Zayn could hear Iona groan behind him. The stranger then broke into a warm grin as she slung the camera strap back over her shoulder. "But I think overall the picture really captures your personalities!"

"What's the picture for?" Morgen asked, glancing nervously at Iona as she pushed her way forward.

"Yeah, and just _who_ are you?" The redhead demanded, crossing her arms.

The newcomer tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she turned to address Morgen. "I always take photos of the trainers who come here to challenge the gym," she explained as she averted her gaze to Iona. "And I'm Viola, professional photographer and leader of the Santalune Gym."

In the short time that he had known her, Zayn had never seen Iona stiffen as quickly as she did just then. Her jaw clamped shut and her eyes widened in what he could only assume to be a mixture of shock and shame; the stunned silence was a welcome reprieve from her constant bickering with Harry.

"_You're_ the gym leader?" Harry spoke up, pushing the glasses back up the bridge of his nose as he stepped forward in disbelief. "But. . . you're young!"

It was true, Zayn realized as he studied the woman standing before them. Dressed in a plain white tank top, green knee-length khakis and brown high-top hiking boots, she looked more like a would-be challenger than the leader of her own gym. From the televised battles he had seen, most gym leaders were well in their thirties; Viola, with her childish grin and smooth skin, looked like she was barely out of her teens.

Viola chuckled, breaking Zayn's train of thought and snapping him back to the present. "I'll take that as a compliment!" She then glanced over the group, her eyes aglow with a growing excitement as she motioned to the gym entrance. "Are we ready to get this thing started?" There was a collective nod as everyone followed her through the doors.

"Nurse Joy sent in the battle rosters last night," Viola informed them as they passed between two tall pillars framing the entry to a brightly lit hallway. "So it looks like it'll be an exciting three days!" As Zayn stepped through the entryway, he noticed that several photographs lined the white walls, almost like a gallery in a museum.

"Are all of these yours?" Morgen inquired, stopping in front of one display—a picture of a large moth-like Pokemon hovering over a stream on a sunny day.

Viola nodded. "These are my own personal collection," she explained as the group examined the different pictures, some of Pokemon and some of challengers. Zayn scanned over the pictures, recognizing a few of the trainers in the images as some of his classmates from school, but as his eyes came to rest on one he turned to Viola.

"Who's he?"

Viola leaned in and examined the photograph in question, her eyes narrowed in concentration as she searched through the depths of her memories. The boy in the picture was young, maybe around Zayn's age, with an easy-going attitude and his lips spread in a wide grin. He was standing on the water fountain in the center of town, pointing in the direction of the gym as a small yellow mouse perched on his shoulder, just as excited as its trainer. On a plaque next to the photograph was Viola's name, along with the title '_Confidence of_ _a Champion_'.

After a moment, Viola's eyes lit up in recognition. "That's Ash!" She stated. "He was my first challenger from the Kanto region. He battled really well with his Pikachu, especially in their rematch." She tapped a finger against her chin and shrugged. "That was a few years back, though. Haven't heard much about him since our fight."

With one last look at the photograph of Ash, Zayn turned and followed the rest of the group through a set of double doors. _That boy looked so at ease with his Pokemon, and coming all the way from Kanto_, he thought as he spared a glance down at Ghost. _I just hope we can keep that kind of connection through this journey_.

"Welcome, trainers, to the Santalune Gym!" Viola announced, spreading her arms wide as the lights flickered to life.

"Holy crap!" Iona exclaimed, and Zayn could only nod in agreement as he soaked in the setting before them.

The entire room was filled with trees and shrubbery of all types, some barely an inch taller than Ghost and others stretching their gnarled limbs close to the glass ceiling high above their heads. A group of Fletchling fluttered between branches overhead while a Butterfree hovered next to a flowerbed, and above the chatter Zayn could hear the gurgle of running water from the back. Descending one floor down in the center of the room, blocked off by a fence of polished white stone, was the reason they were all here: the battling arena.

Next to him Harry bounced on the balls of his feet, barely able to contain his excitement as Viola led them to the arena's edge. Turning to the group, she motioned to the center of the field, where a tall man in a green-and-black referee outfit was standing. "Only the challenger can enter the battlefield," she explained, pointing to a separate fenced-off area to the left where several stone benches were erected. "The rest of you are more than welcome to watch from the benches up here."

Angel stepped forward. "Um, excuse me," she started, drawing Viola's attention. "What about the Pokemon in the trees? Shouldn't they be returned before the fight?"

Viola waved her hand dismissively and grinned. "They're wild. I help the nurses at the Center with rehabilitation in my spare time, but don't worry. Just like any other wild Pokemon, they'll go into hiding at the sounds of battle." Then, with a look that bade no more questions, she descended the steps and walked to the center of the field.

As if on cue, the referee stepped forward and held a brief conversation with her before nodding and placing a hand on his hip. "Will the challenger Jared Knighton please step forward!" His voice boomed from hidden speakers throughout the room, the echo sending a few Fletchlings squawking to the highest branches in fright.

Morgen and Iona clapped his back as Jared took a deep, shaky breath. In the spirit of the moment, Zayn stepped forward and placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Good luck," he whispered and, despite everything, he meant it. With a sharp nod, Jared motioned to his Charmander and together they descended the stairs and stepped onto the arena floor.

As the group made their way to the viewing area, the referee shook Jared's hand and directed him to one side of the field. "Since the challenger only has one Pokemon, this will be a one-round knockout between Viola the Gym Leader and Jared the Trainer," he began, his voice echoing across the room as he unrolled two red flags from his belt and stepped back. "I am Flynn and I will be officiating this match. No substitutions are allowed. The fight is over when the first Pokemon to fall is unable to battle!"

_This is it_, Zayn thought as he scratched Ghost behind the ear. The Houndour nipped at his fingers playfully, unaware of the severity of the moment. _Let's see what they're made of_.

The referee, Flynn, raised one flag and pointed it in Viola's direction. "Is the gym leader ready?"

Viola held out her thumb and winked. "You know I am!"

With a nod, Flynn then directed his gaze to Jared and gestured at him with the other flag. "Is the challenger ready?"

There was a moment of silence as Jared looked down at his Charmander. The orange salamander returned his gaze, bright blue eyes glimmering with a burning desire. "Are you ready, pal?" Charmander nodded its head, the flame on its tail blazing intensely as the Pokemon stepped forward. With a grin, Jared turned his attention back to the referee. "We were born ready!"

"Char!"

Flynn nodded and raised both flags above his head. "Then let the battle," he started, his voice growing with intensity as he slashed the flags through the air in a downward motion, signaling the start of the battle. "Begin!"

"Let's start things off right," Viola declared as she tossed out a Pokeball. "Come on out, Surskit!"

When the red light subsided, a tiny blue bug-like critter glided back and forth on its four spindly legs. It had a semicircular pink marking beneath both of its eyes and atop its round head was a yellow cap with a single antenna protruding up from the middle. "Surskit!" It whistled, narrowing its beady black eyes in concentration as it ceased gliding across the floor.

Zayn leaned forward on the bench, withdrawing his Pokedex from his pants pocket. "What is _that_?" He asked, pressing the button in the middle.

"_Surskit, the Pond Skater Pokémon_," the encyclopedia stated as an image of the Pokemon appeared in the screen's center. "_Surskit can walk on water as if it was skating. It attracts prey with a sweet aroma it produces._"

Next to him, Harry and Iona waved their arms in excitement. "You can do it, Jared the Giant!" They hollered, and Morgen chuckled as she joined in on the cheering.

"This battle will be interesting," Angel spoke up, drawing the group's attention. She shrugged as she pointed to the two Pokemon on the field. "Jared's Charmander is a fire-type, while Viola's Surskit is a dual bug-and-water-type. The odds are slightly in his favor, though, assuming he doesn't make any mistakes."

"Well, he managed to beat Harry pretty easily." Iona smirked as Harry stuck out his tongue at her statement.

"Alright!" Jared exclaimed, bringing everyone's attention back to him as he gestured to his Pokemon. "Let's go, Charmander! Use Tackle!"

"Charmander!" The salamander roared, lowering its head as it charged forward at a surprising speed.

"Dodge it, Surskit!" Viola commanded, watching as her Pokemon skated to the side just in time. Charmander stumbled as it struggled to a stop, but Viola did not hesitate. "Now use Signal Beam!"

A bright pink ball of energy began to form at the tip of Surskit's antenna, growing in size as the bug Pokemon planted its legs firmly on the ground.

"Don't let it fire!" Jared hollered, his hands balling into fists. "Hit it with your tail!"

The Charmander whirled around, growling as its hardened tail crashed into Surskit, breaking its concentration and sending it sliding back a few paces. The energy it had gathered dissipated as the Surskit wobbled unsteadily on its legs, reeling from the forceful blow.

"Surskit!" Viola cried, her brow furrowing as the Pokemon fought to regain its composure.

"Great job, Charmander!" With a grin, Jared pumped an enthusiastic fist into the air. "Tackle it again while its stunned!"

"Char!" The salamander slammed its body into the Surskit, swiping at it with extended claws as the bug Pokemon struggled to dodge the attacks. Several bruises began to emerge on the Surskit's body as it was tossed this way and that, evidence that the Charmander was landing most of its hits.

Viola narrowed her eyes as she sliced a hand through the air. "Knock it back with Sticky Web!"

Sliding away from Charmander, Surskit arched back and shot a web of silvery thread from its antenna. Because of its close proximity, Charmander was unable to dodge the attack in time and as a result it was tossed backwards, its arms and tail bound in the sticky webbing.

Morgen and Iona jumped up in shock as Charmander struggled against its restraints. "Oh no!"

But Jared was far from impressed. Smirking, he commanded Charmander to melt away the web with an Ember. "We're not going down that easy!" He exclaimed as Charmander flexed its newly-freed arms. "Use Ember again!"

The salamander inhaled deeply, flames licking at its lips as it threw back its head and let loose a powerful blast of fire from its mouth. The flames shot towards the Surskit at an incredible speed, but just as they neared their target the bug Pokemon pointed its antenna to the ceiling and sprang through the air, dangling by a silvery thread as the attack sailed past below it.

Viola grinned, her eyes glistening with excitement. "Don't count yourself lucky just yet, kid!" Motioning to her Pokemon, she waved her hand through the air and gestured to her rival. "Surskit, use Bubble Beam!"

Surskit dropped to the ground and lowered its head, aiming the antenna in the salamander's direction as little bubbles began to froth at the tip. "Sur!" It hissed as the bubbles began to intensify, building up into a rapidly spinning ball of foam and water. "Skit!"

A spray of large water-injected bubbles erupted from the bug Pokemon's antenna, sailing across the battlefield with incredible precision. Charmander dove to the left, keeping the flame on its tail out of reach as it ran along the wall. Another stream of bubbles sent it ducking and running the other direction, only to be turned around once again by another onslaught.

"Charmander!" Jared called, his jaw clenching in thought as he watched his partner flail helplessly across the field, awaiting a command from its trainer as it dove and ducked to avoid the assault.

From the viewing area, Angel shook her head and sighed while Iona and Harry rooted the panicked Charmander on. Morgen leaned into Zayn. "I don't like this," she whispered, her eyes clouded with worry. "I've known Jared for a long time, he's never been one to buckle under pressure!"

Zayn glanced back down to the battlefield below, this time directing his gaze to their group mate. The boy's jaw was still clenched tight, his back rigid and his hands balled into fists as he followed his Pokemon's frantic movements, and for the first time since Zayn had known him the Giant looked completely unsure of himself.

"He still has the advantage," Zayn reasoned as his eyes flickered to the two Pokemon. Even though Charmander was being corralled by the threat of the Bubble Beam attack, despite its declining pace it was still in much better shape than its opponent. A quick glance at the bruised Surskit was more than enough; it would not survive another close encounter. "Fire attacks won't work against Surskit since it's part water, and I think Jared knows that. But if he can get Charmander in close enough, another strong body shot might just win the battle."

Morgen raised a brow as she followed his gaze. "You really think so?"

"I may be talking outta my ass here." Zayn smirked, nudging her shoulder. "But then again, I do have _some_ battling experience."

Chuckling, Morgen nodded and, finding comfort in that thought, joined Iona and Harry in their cheering. Ghost yapped in excitement, his tail wagging as he stood on all fours and stepped closer to the arena wall.

"Houndour!" The pup barked, joining in on the sideline cheers. "Dou! Dou!"

As Zayn watched on, it seemed that Charmander was drawing strength from the Houndour's encouragement. As another jet of bubbles hurtled towards it, instead of diving to the side and running again the salamander braced itself against the wall and jumped _over_ the stream, tail held high in the air and arms extended on either side as it lowered its head and dove at the bug Pokemon with incredible agility.

Viola hollered for her Pokemon to slide out of the way, but the Surskit was still firing its Bubble Beam attack, unaware that its intended target was no longer on the ground. Finally shaken out of his doubt, Jared regained his composure and, grinning, called for his Charmander to end the match.

"Charmander!" It screamed, blue eyes burning with determination and white-hot flames snaking from between its lips. Surprised, Surskit glanced up just as its opponent's body smashed into it, and the ground under the two Pokemon erupted into a cloud of dust upon impact.

The entire room fell into a stunned silence as everyone watched in awe, waiting with baited breath for the dust to settle. It felt as if a lifetime had passed, but no one dared to make a sound as the cloud over the battlefield slowly cleared.

Iona was the first to speak, her voice ringing through the silent room as she leaned forward and pointed. "Look!"

The Surskit lay motionless on its back a few feet from where it had been standing, its entire body bruised and its legs splayed awkwardly. Lying on its side next to the bug Pokemon, battered and unmoving, was Jared's Charmander.

"Charmander!" Jared hollered, stepping forward, but the referee waved him back.

"This is still an ongoing battle!" Flynn declared, his voice booming from the loudspeakers. "You can't step onto the field until the match is called!"

Iona stood up and moved to the edge of the arena. "It's a double knock-out!" She cried, gesturing to the fallen Pokemon. "Both of them aren't moving!"

Flynn looked to Viola before turning his attention back to the sidelines. "According to League rules, if both Pokemon fall at the same time during battle we are to allow a full sixty seconds before declaring a double knock-out."

Morgen glanced down at her watch and sighed. "They still have thirty seconds to go," she whispered as she glanced at Jared. The Giant was standing stock-still, his hands balled into tight fists as he anxiously watched for signs of movement from his Pokemon.

It was agonizing as they all waited, mentally ticking off the seconds in their heads as they stared intently at the unmoving Pokemon in the middle of the field. _Forty-five, forty-six, forty-seven_. No one spoke as they nervously waited for something, anything to happen. _Fifty, fifty-one, fifty-two_. . .

A figure stirred on the field, causing a collective gasp to erupt from the sidelines. Slowly, shakily, one of the fallen Pokemon pushed itself up into a sitting position, legs sprawled out in front of it as it rubbed its bruised head with a sigh. Blinking the dust out of its eyes, the Pokemon glanced up at its trainer as if in a daze. "Char?"

Flynn held up the flag in his right hand and pointed in Jared's direction with his left. "Surskit is unable to battle," he declared as Viola returned her Pokemon into its ball. "Jared the Trainer wins the match!"

With a nod from the referee, Jared ran onto the field and scooped up his partner in his arms. "We did it!" He cried as Iona and Harry ran onto the field. "We won our first badge!"

Charmander wobbled unsteadily in his grasp, but smiled all the same. "Char! Char!" It grinned, wagging its tail in excitement.

A soft _click_ drew their attention as Viola walked up. "That was a perfect shot!" She exclaimed as she slung her camera over one shoulder and extended her hand. "Congratulations, Jared. Your Charmander fought very well!" She motioned for Flynn to step over. "As a reward for your victory," she began as the referee handed her a sealed wooden box. She thanked him and pulled back the lid, exposing its contents. "I am happy to present to you the winner's purse of $1,500 and the Bug Badge!"

With a nod, Jared set down Charmander and picked up his prize. Pocketing the money and placing the badge inside his badge case, he returned Charmander to its Pokeball and turned to greet the group.

"That was intense!" Morgen laughed as she clapped the Giant on the shoulder.

"Dude, you were awesome!" Iona exclaimed, shooting Jared a thumbs-up. Behind her, Angel nodded and whispered a quick congratulations.

Giving Ghost a pat on the head, Zayn extended his hand and grinned. "Good battling out there," he said. Jared glanced at the Houndour before turning his gaze back to Zayn and grasping his hand.

"I couldn't have done it without Ghost," he confessed. "I froze in the moment, but that won't _ever_ happen again!" With a smirk, Jared crossed his arms and gazed pointedly at Zayn. "Maybe for your battle we'll have Charmander root on Squirtle, in case you freeze up. We still have that bet after all!"

Nodding, Zayn motioned to Ghost and together they walked towards the exit. He had seen how intense his first gym battle could be, and Squirtle still needed a lot of training. If he ever wanted to win that bet, he needed to start now.

"Can _I_ battle you now?" He heard Harry ask as the group slowly made their way off the field.

"Harry!" Iona scolded. "She needs to heal her Pokemon, too!"

Shaking his head, Zayn opened the door to the gallery and left the arena. It was still early, and his battle wasn't for a few days. He still had plenty of time to train Squirtle. Recalling last night's bet, Zayn could only use Squirtle if he wanted to win. Matched water for water, the tiny turtle might stand a chance against Viola's Surskit. But if things went badly for Squirtle then Ghost would have to be ready for her Pokemon. _If I play my strategy that way_, he thought as he waited outside for the rest of the group to catch up, _I might just have a chance at victory_._ Maybe not to win the bet, but at least to win the badge_.

He would have to come prepared, though. He had no information on the leader's second Pokemon, and he was the only one in the group who would be battling with two. _Legends, I hope I'm ready for this_. . .


End file.
